It happens
by kadu ka
Summary: "So, you are uber-fast, uber-strong, have uber-good sight and can fly? Something else? How about x-ray, heat-emitting and infra-red vision? Super-hearing? Super-breath?" - "Do I need to answer that?" - GrimmIchiGrimm, AU
1. 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

A/N: Well, here is another monster that got a bit out of hand (should have been around 10000 words, now it's three times as big) that's why it will be my first multi-chapter fic. Yeah, I'm proud, too... +cough+ Anyway, I always wanted to create a super-anti-hero and who wouldn't be better for the job than Grimmjow? So, here he is.

Actually, I wanted to name it 'Shit happens', but I wasn't sure whether I would get into trouble or not. So well, yeah, 'It happens'.

Some warnings: Plot (so much plot that this whole damn thing just didn't want to stop growing), Yaoi, angsty stuff, dramatic stuff, funny stuff, Grimm's smart ass (he got a crude humor...), frequent abusing (you'll soon now why), eeeh, if something else comes to my mind, I'll let you know.

A/N2: Finally! The first chapter is checked! Thanks goes to Enslavement-Thesis! :)

Have fun!

* * *

_Some things in life are bad, they can really make you mad._

_Other things just make you swear and curse._

_When you're chewing on life's gristle don't grumble, give a whistle_

_and this'll help things turn out for the best._

_And always look on the bright side of life,_

_Always look on the light side of life._

* * *

"Come on, five thousand."

"Oh my god...!"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes exaggeratedly as he listened to the whiny noise the woman in front of him made.

"Four thousand, that's my last offer."

She whimpered loudly, clinging with her scratched and bruised hands on the brick. She made the mistake of looking down again, seeing the distance to the ground. "Oh my...god..." she cried and wiggled her legs helplessly. "Anything, god, anything but don't drop me!"

Grimmjow smirked. "Four thousand, right?" He pulled a chequebook out of the back pocket of his trousers. "I just need your signature here-" He held the pad up and she stared at it incredulously.

"Don't look at me like that. Lifesaving has its price. Now sign here-"

"Y-you're a disgusting asshole!"

"Say that again and I'll go without you."

How she was able to hold herself upright with one hand on a loose brick on a 50 meter high wall and scribble a shaky signature onto the cheque she didn't know. However, Grimmjow nodded contentedly, gripped her around the waist, hoisted her over his shoulder and flew effortlessly to the ground, where he was welcomed by several police officers, two paramedics and some firefighters.

Considering their furious faces, they were as pleased to see him as ever,so he gave them a cocky salute and flew off, his short trench coat fluttering in the wind.

The newspapers called him boon and bane of the city; the authorities called him a sick psychopath; and the victims acknowledged him as the biggest asshole the world has seen.

Like he cared.

The victims cling to their life and after some threatening they were more than willing to pay the sum he demanded in order to save them. It wasn't his problem that other sissies like Superman or Batman or _whoever_-man were willing to do the hero-job without payment. He wasn't as rich, nice or naive as those other idiots, so he played hero. For money.

Even though the city didn't like his 'greedy' behavior, he has to make money somehow! Why shouldn't he use his powers instead of wasting his time delivering pizza, or working like a pussy in an office? Wearing glasses or shit like that...pfft, what a joke.

After landing on a roof top of a random skyscraper, Grimmjow reached into the pocket of his trench coat. He counted the big cheques he had gotten that night. Seriously, how many idiots would have died if it wasn't for him? He grinned, pocketed the cheques and tousled his bright blue hair.

With his work done, it's dinner time!

* * *

"Four victims, fourteen thousand."Renji threw the newspaper onto his desk, cursing. "Such a bastard!"

"A tricky bastard with an excellent sense of business."

Renji gave him a look. Stark shrugged his shoulders. "As if other managers wouldn't pull uglier things than that. He's just more prominent and...exotic."

"He's supposed to be a goddamn superhero with his fluttering around the city! Last week he lifted a fucking bus like it was made of paper!" Renji ran a hand through his hair, cursing loudly. "There has to be a trick to it. It must be a plot against something... Maybe a television broadcaster has planned all this."

Stark yawned loudly. With Renji everything was a conspiracy: the 'Blue Bird' he was currently cursing about, television companies, the price of the vending machine coffee on the third floor ("_Two bucks for this lousy shit! That's sheer robbery!_"). Stark had learned to ignore this after a while.

"If you're not interested in doing actual work, please say so."

Renji threw the newspaper in the bin angrily, revealing a folder that had been lying under it. "You mean this one?" He picked it up and flicked through it, making a face.

"Not him again..." he sighed, rubbing his temple. "That's what? The fourth time already?"

Stark shrugged his shoulders again. "Considering the state he was in the last time, there had to be more accidents than four."

Grumbling, Renji left the office.

The sight that greeted him in the separated waiting room was what he had expected.

The known troublemaker sat slouched on a chair in one corner of the room, half his face covered in purple bruises and scratches, his right arm in a sling. Next to him sat an angry, middle aged man with a bump on his forehead and his car keys in his shaking fist.

"Good morning, gentlemen." Renji sighed inwardly when the older of the two men shot up from his seat, going straight into rampage mode.

"Officer! I demand that this kid be arrested! He nearly got me killed with his recklessness!"

Said kid scowled at the wall next to him, not moving an inch.

"Please, calm down, Mister..."

"I am calm!" The man assured him in a growling voice. Renji tuned him out in favor to look over the kid in the corner again. He wore the same hoody as the last time; slightly ripped and partially covered in dirt and traces of blood. He seemed to ignore everything around him and his eyes held some kind of resignation he should be too young for. The brown hair that hung into his face just pronounced the mood that was radiating from him.

"...and suddenly he was right in front of my car!"

Renji blinked, suddenly hearing the babbling again. He cleared his throat. "I am sure one of my colleagues had already made a report of the accident."

"Yes, they have!" The man started gesturing wildly (as if his spitting while speaking wasn't enough already...) "So, I have no idea why I'm still sitting here if that brat is obviously the guilty one!"

"Sir, you can't just..."

"Goddamnit, declare him innocent already." Renji blinked at the sudden noise from the emo-corner and cocked a brow at the sour look the kid was giving him. "I'm guilty. Don't make a drama out of it."

The man smiled widely, seeing already the end of the debacle.

"It's not that easy..." Renji started**,** but was interrupted.

"Splendid! Finally, he came to his senses!"

"Sir, he can't just say that! We have rules to follow." And to the kid, "Listen, you said something like that the last time too, and you weren't guilty! Not at all! Are you that desperate to get into prison!"

The prominent scowl was thrown into Renji's direction again.

Before the angry man could get the possibility to drown him in more saliva, Renji grabbed the next policeman walking by. "Get me one of the officers who were with those two by the crash scene!" he whispered lowly.

The guy gulped. "Officer Shiba was in the night shift and left the case to Kotsubaki who, in return, was declared incapable to handle the job."

"By who?"

"The guy who was screaming until now. He demanded to see the chief of this station. Unfortunately the chief is still in Hawaii and since Stark is declared second-in-commandand he sent you instead of going himself..."

Renji opened his mouth to say something, when another officer stepped through the door, papers in her hand."Abarai! We just got some information from the accident this morning."

Even the angry man saw fit to shut his mouth at the news.

"Apparently there was a defect in the programming of the traffic lights, so that it was possible for both the lights to turn green at once. Something like that rarely occurs but the responsible people are already looking for the trigger for this defect."

Renji nodded once.

"This process may take some time but they said they would inform us as soon as possible." She turned to the stunned man still clutching his car keys in hishand.

"Thank you for your patience, Sir. However it seems we have to wait for the answer first. Please feel free to go."

After that the man all but ran out of the room.

Left alone with the kid still sitting in the corner, Renji sighed loudly.

"You're guilty, huh?" he said sarcastically and saw the boy shift ever so slightly. Somehow he wished that every case would solve itself as easily as this one. However...

"But what kind of crazy accident was that... Defect lights? Last time you were almost crushed by a dumpster falling off a driving truck. Fate doesn't like you**, **huh?"

He frowned at the bitter smile that stretched over the kid's thin lips.

"Obviously."

Opening the folder in his hands again, Renji scanned the papers for the name of the kid, being too lazy to remember it the last three times. "Kurosaki, huh? You're living alone... Wonder why nobody's put you into a juvenile shelter yet."

Sharp brown eyes turned up to him. "I'm a little bit old for that, don't you think?"

Renji checked the folder again. "Twenty-four. " He whistled. "I'm impressed."

"Fuck you."

"Hey, you little shit. Stop mouthing off. I'm still an officer here!"

"Whatever..." he mumbled and slowly got to his feet.

Renji furrowed his brows even more when he saw the guy limping to the exit. "You're sure your injuries don't need to be checked?"

"It'll heal..." he heard the retreating boy mumble as he left.

"Don't expect any sympathy," Renji called after him and stomped back to his office where he could fish the newspaper out of the bin and curse the Blue Bird again.

* * *

Grimmjow hated fire. Not that he could be burned by it, but his cheques would, as would any other dollar bill. And he loathed the prickling feeling of the sizzling heat over his skin. Moreover he barely owned clothes that were able to resist fire, means: they would burn and leave him half-naked and in a very sour mood. Unfortunately that night had nothing else to offer and he hadn't had a decent deal in a week.

"I have to live from something, too. Six thousand!" he growled over the sounds of sirens and the burning building. The woman coughed heavily.

"I don't have any money!" she wailed back, clutching onto his jacket.

He sighed frustrated and run a hand through his hair. "Anything else?"

She threw a panicked look to her soon-to-be-ashen surroundings and gripped the cloth tighter. "Y-you wouldn't leave me here...?" She coughed again.

"I ain't that nice and save you for nothin'."

She paled even more, tears leaking down her cheeks. "No...oh god, no..! I would you give anything!"

The ceiling to their left collapsed, making the woman scream loudly. The firefighters wouldn't hear her. They were busy saving the other victims in other rooms easier to reach than this one.

"Think of something."

In a desperate attempt she grabbed his hand a placed it over her breast, making him feel the panicked beating of her heart.

Grimmjow's face turned into a disgusted grimace. "As flattered as I am that you'd offer somethin' like that, believe me, you wouldn't survive that kind of sex."

Just when all the hope vanished in her eyes the door on the far end of the room was broken down, revealing two firefighters in heavy clothing and a respirator clutched to each face.

Grimmjow was gone before either one could see him.

_Another useless job_, he grumbled inwardly when he flipped open his cheque book and was greeted by nothing but empty papers. Little by little it became more difficult do make money like this.

He had thought about leaving the city**,** but where else would more crime and accidents be than in the biggest metropolis of the country? And leaving the country? Hell no, he hated trying to accommodate himself to another culture. He just had to try harder.

And he had to find another coat. The tattered remains almost fallng off his body told him so.

Strolling down the mall the next afternoon, he eyed the shops warily. Nobody would recognize him. His sleek black hair was pulled into a short pigtail and sunglasses hid his piercing blue eyes. It was his luck that nobody had gotten a real picture of him, just shadows or tiny pictures, for example when he lifted the bus – almost the deal of his life he had to say proudly! (most occupants were wealthy and desperate enough to pay him huge sums) – the only thing recognizable was his bright blue hair.

He grinned when a paper boy offered him the daily newspaper. On the cover last night's fire was described, explaining in disgusting detail what had happened. Nobody got killed...and nobody mentioned him. He frowned at that. He thought he had left an impression on that woman. Tsk, women! Stupid chick most probably thought he was a hallucination or something. His mood got worse. He had lost his coat in his heroic attempt to save them and they dared to ignore him?

Flicking through the rest of the paper**,** he tried to find something interesting or some forewarning that some idiots would try and rob a bank again. But the only sign he got whenever something was about to happen was a nervous tingle in the back of his neck right then. He lowered his paper and looked down the road just in time to see a giant advertising sign fall forward. The only passer-by standing there was a dirty boy who looked far from wealthy. He snarled. He didn't need to blow his cover by saving-

CRASH!

-oh, well. Too late anyway.

As expected several other witnesses screamed at the brutal display, running to the poor guy.

"God, somebody call the ambulance!"

"Hey, can you hear me?"

Grimmjow found dark amusement in seeing the people struggle to get him out. His amusement stopped abruptly when he saw them lifting the sign and – against his belief – the boy wasn't a pancake, but was coughing heavily, struggling to get up.

_What the hell?_

"I-I'm alright...d-don't worry." Grimmjow saw that he tried not to use his left leg – broken or strained – and due to the hand clutching his head and the babbling, he assumed the kid was either in shock or had a concussion. Or both.

To his further surprise, he managed to shove the overly caring passers-by away, giving them something between a smile and a glare, and limped away from the scene, with nobody holding him back.

Hm, he was impressed.

* * *

Obviously it was Grimmjow's lucky day, or night for that matter. Some brainless idiot or psychopath had tried his best to kidnap his big idol, the actress Matsumoto. Seriously, even he could see that this busty woman wasn't a whiny girl.

To prove his point, she had jumped right out of her adorer's clutches after she had castrated him with a well aimed kick and climbed out the window. Sadly, she forgot that she was on the twentieth floor of a skyscraper. Even if her high heels had proven themselves worthy as a deadly weapon, they were rather useless in balancing on a tiny ledge of the wall. That's when Grimmjow's heroic part would start. The signs had been right although the newspaper article about the Matsumoto-stalker one or two weeks ago was a bit too...obvious? But since there were an award show, a famous actress, a kidnapper and much more money, why should he be picky? What's the worst that could happen to him?

So with a feral grin Grimmjow rubbed his palms together and jumped from the edge of the roof where he had waited. That whole ordeal was better than any movie she had acted in anyway.

"Hey there," he smiled charmingly while standing in the air a small distance to the actress.

"Holy shit!" she said loudly and eyed him up and down. She pressed herself even more against the wall, her nails scraping over the surface of the bricks. "You're real!"

Grimmjow looked down at himself and patted his torso. "Seem to be." he deadpanned. "So, I guess you need a little bit help there?"

Matsumoto looked down to the ground – uff, the distance was...high. Too high – and blinked at the flying man in front at her. "I guess you're eager to help a poor woman?"

Grimmjow's smile turned into a grin. "Of course." He rubbed his forefinger and thumb together. "For a little donation I'm willing to do many things."

"An autograph?" she smiled sweetly.

Grimmjow's left brow twitched. "Just for you, I'll make a special offer: how about I bring you safely down and you'll give me – in your sheer thankfulness –five million?"

"Kisses?"

That woman gave him a headache.

"Listen, bitch." His eyes twitched to the ground where a horde of journalists and fans and whatever was screaming their hearts out. The flashing of the cameras was irritating as hell. "I don't need to bring you down**,** but how about this: Saved from a skyscraper like this, your face will be all over the world within hours – many interviews, many photos, much more money?"

Her pretty face twisted into a sneer. "You're just too full of yourself, Blue Birdy."

As much as he wanted to, it would be tactically foolish to push her from the ledge and save her afterwards. He already regretted leaving such an opportunity unused, but when she was unwilling... "Your loss," he grumbled and turned around.

"_Gotcha!_"

Grimmjow shot his head around and just saw the creepy fox-like grin of the kidnapper as he leaned out of the now smashed window next to Matsumoto. Matsumoto, not whiny but still a woman, screamed loudly and jumped out of the clutches of the creep again. Just...well...

Her and Grimmjow's eyes met a second after she fell, when he was ripped away by the sound of a shooting gun. Something hit him in the head.

The silver haired creep cackled loudly. "You won't get her!"

"Ouch, you stupid fuck!" Grimmjow cursed loudly and rubbed the spot where the bullet had hit him. The kidnapper's eyes widened.

Then the wailing woman's scream echoed through the air and in a moment of unknown instinct, Grimmjow shot downwards with lightning speed and caught her as gently as he could before she would be decorating the street. He came out of his stupor when he felt something clutching onto his shoulders and something wet pressing into his neck. Inwardly he slapped his forehead repeatedly. God, he was such an idiot!

In order to get out of the wave of flashlights from the ground he flew to their previous point again, coming face to face with the creep again.

"Okay, now I have a bone to pick with you."

The creep's answer was a panicked scream and a series of shots towards the two flying. When Grimmjow caught the bullet aimed at his head in his palm, the kidnapper threw the gun at him and fled into the building.

"What an idiot..." He grumbled and shifted Matsumoto so that he could reach into his back pocket, pulling out his famous chequebook. "About the five million..." Before he could get out another word she had grabbed his face and planted something wet over his mouth. He stopped in his tracks until his senses kicked back in, ripping her from his face. "What the hell!"

"Ouch! I wanted to thank y-AH! Stop, you're hurting me!" Being lifted by just one arm with a brutal fist holding onto her wrist, she glared at the man who looked as if she had kicked him in the nuts.

"I should drop you for this!"

"S-sorry, you ass! How should I know you're gay?"

Grimmjow stopped again, turning from white to furious red. "I'm _what_!"

"You find a kiss from me disgusting! Which straight man would think so?"

"Now who is full of herself!" Grimmjow screeched, barely containing himself – or his fist – from slapping her. He would break her neck in the process.

"And you have serious attitude problems, darling."

"Are laughing at me?" He shook her arm threateningly.

"You know, you're cute when taking a closer look."

Shifting into gear he flew up to the highest floor of the building, dropping her unceremoniously onto the flat roof.

"Ouch, gentlemen through and through."

With a flick of his wrist the security camera next to the roof's entrance exploded. Matsumoto blinked stupidly, before she whistled lowly. "Wow," she said, obviously impressed.

"So, since nobody's listening..." He towered over her with a dark gleam decorating his eyes. "You're awfully cocky since I saved that sweet ass of yours."

She smiled at him. "That's me."

"Don't underestimate me. I have no problem in throwing you over the edge." He eyed her up and down. "Spit it out. Something's fuckin' fishy here."

Her blonde brows went up to her hairline.

"Don't look at me like that. I saw some security guys watching the scene from the building on the opposite side. And the white idiot got too easily to you, don't you think?"

She threw a look across the street, barely seeing anything in the dark windows.

"I have good eyes." Grimmjow smirked proudly.

"So, then why did you save me in the first place?"

Grimmjow had no answer to that, especially because it was a mystery to him as well. "Dunno," he admitted. "But you're lucky that I did. You would have been a red spot on the pavement if I hadn't had caught you."

Matsumoto tried to grin at that, but her pale face showed something different.

The next moment, the entrance to the roof was kicked open. Several security guards were flowing out and before they could reach them, Grimmjow jumped several feet high.

"Ask them," was the last thing Matsumoto heard from him.

* * *

"Matsumoto's got them all! Hero has a soft spot for famous actress" Renji furrowed his brows at that. "That jerk and Matsumoto Rangiku? The hell?"

Stark shrugged his shoulders and gulped the rest of his vending machine coffee. _("I can't believe you really paid for that!"_) "Can't you stop reading this gossip paper?"

Renji glared at him and folded it neatly before tossing it in a drawer.

"They just wrote half the story." Stark put his head in his hand, playing with the empty cup. "Matsumoto was barely a decoy for Blue Bird; truth to be told, this story is a real plot."

"A plot against our superhero? But..." Renji sat down on his chair. "How do you know that?"

"One member of the team securing the area is a friend of a friend. Telling everyone loudly how they got him." Stark lifted his cup when one of the younger policemen went by his office, silently asking for another. "I would appreciate if you have a look in our guest room."

Renji stood, stretching slightly, when stopping in the door way. "You mean..."

Exactly.

This time the troublemaker Kurosaki was accompanied by three bruised guys in their teens, maybe older. Even if they looked roughed up**,** it was nothing compared to Kurosaki. One of his eyes was so swollen that you couldn't see it anymore. His whole body looked stiff and one of his hands was swollen as well, matching his eye.

"Hello," Renji didn't know what to say. Instead one of the three other guys beat him to it.

"We were just minding our own business when he came up and provoked us!" His lip was bleeding and his nose wasn't really straight anymore.

Kurosaki sat slouched in his usual chair, seemingly just to be waiting for his chance to say that he was guilty.

Renji fist went outside the doorway, grabbing the next policeman that run by – the recruit Rikichi.

"Don't say that the officer getting these guys left already."

"N-no, but Officer Stark said you should be taking over."

Feeling dumbfounded, he let go ofthe other's collar, but managed to ask for the report and the needed folder before Rikichi ran off.

"You want to say anything?" Renji's question went to the emo-corner.

He saw Kurosaki shrugging his shoulders, but kept quiet. The next option was to have a closer look at the other three. When his tattooed face came closer to them, they twitched slightly, eying him warily. "Have you little punks something to say, too? Something close to what really happened?" His eyes caught suddenly a familiar feature, and Renji's stony face turned into an evil grin. "Hey don't I know you? Weren't you the little shit who stole my wallet?"

"I-I didn't know you were an officer?"

"Oh," Renji's eyebrows shot upwards. "So, if you had known this little detail, you wouldn't have robbed me?"

"O-of course not!"

Within the next twenty minutes Renji made those three guys' life a living hell. And he enjoyed every minute of it. Contentedly, he left them to the former officers, instead occupying himself with the last one. Deciding that he needed at least some kind of treatment, Renji fetched some supplies from the infirmary.

"Here." Kurosaki looked up from his spot and was surprised by the icebag. "It may be already too late, but anyway..." Nodding once, the boy took the bag from him, holding it up to his swollen face.

Renji took the swollen hand carefully in his own, observing the red flesh around the knuckles. He ignored the visible jerk of Kurosaki's arm. Without seeing any visible injuries he put another icebag onto it, hoping it would do the job.

"You're really in deep shit, aren't you?"

Kurosaki laughed at that. "You have no idea."

"Should I order someone to bring you to the hospital?"

"Weren't you the one who said you wouldn't show sympathy?"

"Whatever..."

* * *

Grimmjow had an excellent memory for faces and so he recognized the boy immediately. That, and the fact that he was just run over by a motorcycle and stood some minutes later. That guy had stamina. And resistance.

Grimmjow shrugged. He had finally found the coat he was looking for. Since the incident with Matsumoto he had to be extra careful. Not that they had gotten a picture of him, but he wasn't sure whether the woman would talk or not. She was not as much in shock as the other victims and could describe him easily. However, even if those idiots would find him, they would merely be getting on his nerves, rather than being a real threat.

When he was about to lift his newspaper so he could read it, the stamina boy went by, barely giving him a side glance. Grimmjow frowned at the resignation in his eyes and the dark bruise covering his jaw. Pale skin, freckles blooming over his cheeks, a scar that ranover his pulse point on his neck, a freckle on the edge of his upper lip – then the second was gone.

Grimmjow snapped out of his stupor, pulled his hat further over his hair and hurried away.

* * *

Ichigo just exited the subway at the last second, sighing when the doors closed behind him. When he tried to go forward, he was stuck. Panic crept over his face when he was forced to his right. He shot a glance over his shoulder and saw that his backpack was stuck in the door**, **dragging him over the track. His eyes widened when he saw the wall coming closer; he struggled with the straps of the bag, stumbled over the tiles and screamed as the wall—

His eyes opened but he saw nothing besides those famous twinkling stars dancing across his vision. Ichigo turned his head to the side, and the picture cleared somehow. He saw several feet standing in his view and further, much further behind those, he saw the stranger with the hat and the coat and those strange eyes again.

* * *

Grimmjow asked himself if the kid wanted to be saved or if he was a masochist (a hardcore masochist..?) He observed him slipping on something invisible and nearly cracking his head open on the pavement. Frankly, he had been too lazy to count how many times he saw him getting into one accident or another. He didn't know if this behavior should piss him off or amuse him to no end. He opted for the latter.

It wouldn't be the last time he saw him.

It would be Grimmjow's second bus to save when they met again.

Due to some Hollywood-like accident, the bus had spun on a bridge and come to a shrieking halt over the edge, its rear dangling dangerously over the river flowing several meters under the bridge. Everybody was able to evacuate without any super-help. Well, everybody but one poor soul hanging from the rear window of the bus.

Grimmjow cocked a brow at seeing him and silently flew up to him.

"Need any help?" he asked casually, looking down to the river. He asked himself if the boy would rather die by drowning or already die by hitting the surface of the water.

"Get away from me!"

Grimmjow blinked stupidly. He seldom heard something like that. "So, I guess you'll save yourself then?"

Just then the bus made a loud cracking sound and was dragged further down by gravity.

"You'll fall any moment," Grimmjow promised and looked for his chequebook again. Although, that kid didn't look like he would be able to pay him. So why was he waiting?

"I said get away from me!"

Not being one to take orders, Grimmjow flew directly next to the kid, leaning against the rear of the bus. "Actually, you're in no position to give me orders."

"Like I care," he whispered, his eyes firmly pressed closed.

Grimmjow looked up to the kids hands and was surprised that he was able to hold himself up. The broken rear window left sharp edges everywhere, even where the kid held himself upright. His hands looked quite cut open and blood was all over them.

"Come on, give me everything you have, and I'll-" Grimmjow made the mistake of touching the guy.

Instantly, his right arm shot out and swatted Grimmjow away, his eyes wide and wild, and after an agonizing long second, he seemed to notice his mistake when his other hand couldn't hold him up anymore. The bus seemed to see it fit to finally submit to gravity and fall off the bridge as well.

In a second stupid moment (in Grimmjow's point of view), he reacted before his brain kicked in.

That's why Ichigo found himself in a firm grip instead of cold and wet water and smashed by a big vehicle. He ripped his eyes open and looked down to his feet dangling in the air. His eyes darted back and forth until his head shot up to the stranger's face. His mouth fell open when he saw the features.

"Y-you!" he gasped out, his voice raw and recognition all over it.

The stranger's eyes turned darker. In an instant he ripped Ichigo from his body, holding him up by a hurting grip around his throat.

"You remember me?"

Ichigo would have said yes, but no sound came out of his mouth. He saw the similarity easily, the strong jaw, the high nose, the intimidating eyes – but his hair was black then, not blue.

His consciousness left him.

Cursing at the limp form, Grimmjow shook his head and threw him over his shoulder. He wasn't interested in showing himself on the busy bridge and the riverside would be flooded soon...Why should he dump him in the river when he could just leave him on a random street? While flying there he rummaged through the guy's backpack. The wallet brought him barely twenty bucks and he found no credit card. A half eaten sandwich, a bottle of apple juice, a scarf and a time table (he was working at the post office?). Great.

Taking him to next deserted road he dumped him on the concrete, walking away slowly and still rummaging through the backpack. He still found a thing or two. The condoms got him laughing. If he had sex like he lived his life... He could almost pity the guy. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the light of an upcoming car before it rolled over the unconscious guy.

Without losing any speed the car drove by. Grimmjow frowned at that and looked down to the man in his arms. ...wait, why the hell had he done that again? Dumping him again on the street he barely got away by fifty meters or so when the next vehicle dared to smash him. This time he didn't curse when the man was in his arms again, safe from the road.

He threw him over his shoulder, jumped into the air and observed the road he had been sitting on until that moment. Nothing. No cars whatsoever.

Something wasn't right. At all.

* * *

The guy was an enigma. Grimmjow didn't understand how he survived half the things he suffered. Of course, if Grimmjow would be the one on the receiving end, the result would be the same. But he wasn't. It made him wonder. Maybe...just maybe...

But otherwise, the guy was one big bruise walking around, whereas Grimmjow got no scratches no matter what he did. If the guy was somehow...then perhaps...maybe...

The guy bugged him. In fact, that little shit bugged him so much that he caught himself stopping mid-walk and look whenever the guy showed his bruised little face. The first two times he was furious with himself, but truth to be told, he hadn't much to do anyway. So why not observing him and get a laugh or two out of this?

* * *

"H-hey, you!"

Grimmjow ignored the call and walked on, a new newspaper in his hands. However, he couldn't ignore the hand that gripped his upper arm. He glared at it, then at the person the hand belonged to.

"Please, wait," she said, her big eyes were hidden by horrible big sunglasses. Her hair was wrapped under a wide hat, her clothing inconspicuous.

He smirked, easily seeing under the cover.

"What?" he said in a rather gruff voice.

"I want to talk to you...in private." She added the last part quieter.

"Well, I don't." Grimmjow would have walked on but she stopped him again by crossing his path.

"Please."

He shoved her away.

A couple of notes were held under his nose. Grimmjow eyed them suspiciously and grabbed them. "Now you're speaking my language."

In a private chamber of a small restaurant, Matsumoto put her glasses and the hat down. Grimmjow did the same, his black hair shining in the dim light. He had noticed nothing out of order. No suspicious men or any camera or micro technology that could have blown his cover.

"I wanted to thank you." She said timidly, toying with the flower attached to the hat. She cleared her throat. "You were right. If you hadn't caught me that day, there would have been no strings to save my life."

Grimmjow suppressed the urge to pat his own shoulder.

"I'm in your debt."

"That's why I came here? To hear this?"

Another bill shut him up.

"I don't expect anything from you, but I'm willing to help you if you need it someday."

Grimmjow grinned. Whatever that meant, it couldn't be too bad, could it? "That's good to hear."

* * *

How the guy's – Kurosaki, he had learned due to his ID-card – brakes of his bike broke without him knowing was a mystery to Grimmjow. He observed him speeding down the hill with nothing to stop him but the gully on his way. Kurosaki did a rather graceful somersault over the handlebars of his bike, landed heavily on his back and rolled until he came to a stop in the middle of the road. The upcoming truck would kill him. For sure.

His limbs moved on their own as he threw himself in front of Kurosaki who stood on his bruised legs shakily; Grimmjow's back was hit by the truck, he braced his feet against the concrete, slammed into Kurosaki and got the whole mess to an abrupt halt in the middle of the intersection.

Several horns beeped loudly, the truck was heavily damaged, as was the street; some cars seemed to create a pile-up behind the truck.

Grimmjow could barely wrap his mind around the whole mess he just had made. Kurosaki was shaking on his knees in front of him and in the next second, both of them vanished.

"I told you to keep away from me!" was the first thing Kurosaki managed to get out of his mouth when he was able to.

Grimmjow almost got angry. "I saved your fucking pathetic life out there! Be grateful, you idiot!"

"I would have managed that..."

"Managed? Have you seen the truck!"

Kurosaki cringed. He was sitting on the cold floor in a random empty warehouse and put his arms around his shaking knees. "You followed me these past two week, haven't you!"

Grimmjow spluttered.

"Well, did you notice anything? Huh? Something out of ordinary?" The shaking got worse. Kurosaki lowered his head on his knees, gripping them more tightly. "Shit," he whispered.

* * *

It was the first time Renji had to order Kurosaki to the station, not the other way around – more or less at least.

Kurosaki sat guiltily on a chair, looking everywhere but him.

"We found your backpack in the middle of the gigantic crash scene yesterday. We asked some witnesses and they were able to describe someone like you standing in the middle of the intersection." Renji noticed the shaking hands that gripped his trousers tightly. His gaze lifted up to the other's face and he saw the pain and the fear in those eyes. "Strangely, most witnesses could describe another person jumping right in front of you before the truck could hit you. Can you tell me anything about that?"

Kurosaki pressed his lips together, shaking his head lightly.

"You okay? You look a bit white." Not to mention those dark bruises covering the back of each hand and his chin. "Should I get you something to drink?" Another head shake.

Renji wanted to ask something else, when Kurosaki whispered: "Did someone die?"

Renji opened the folder in his hands, as if needing to look it up. "No, nobody. The majority of the drivers got a bump or two, but were all fine, why are you-"

Kurosaki burst into tears.

* * *

"So you say all these accidents happen because of you?"

Ichigo put the next letters into the postbox, leaving the entrance of the building and getting his working bike into motion. Surprisingly the stranger was walking next to him. He should have thanked him for saving his life twice, but he couldn't get out the words.

"Obviously."

Grimmjow (he introduced himself after Ichigo complained, he didn't want to call him 'hey you' all the time) screwed up his nose. "Well, that's stupid. Why should it be your fault?"

"Bad Karma?"

A dark brow was lifted. "Bad Karma? You're religious or what?"

"I have no choice, have I?" Ichigo dumped more letters in another postbox. He flicked through the remaining ones, checking the address. "I would go insane if all this happened without the guidance of an upper force."

Grimmjow chuckled. "You're kidding. That sounds ridiculous!"

Kurosaki examined a colored letter closely, frowning at the barely readable address. "Maybe I should have died a long time ago..."

"Then you're a part of 'Final Destination' or what?"

Ichigo couldn't find the humor in that. The pain he suffered every day was hardly bearable. "You know, ever since you came in contact with me, the accidents got worse." He looked Grimmjow in his blue piercing eyes. "And to make it worse, other people are affected more than ever." He feared the day someone would die because of him.

Grimmjow barked a laugh. "Well, now I'm the bastard bringing doom and death to this city?"

Ichigo pulled his lips into a thin line. "You better keep away from me, or you might be hurt as well..."

Grimmjow had laughed heartily at that pathetic reasoning of Kurosaki.

But, well, he would soon stop laughing.

* * *

With a shit-eating grin Grimmjow sat with crossed legs on the kid's bed inside his shabby apartment, enjoying the look of pure horror and shock in Kurosaki's face.

Kurosaki stumbled two steps back and lean heavily into the doorframe he just came through, taking shaky gasp of air. "Oh god..." he said and covered his eyes with his hand – the one that wasn't bandaged. "Don't. Do. That. Ever. EVER. Again!" Grimmjow chuckled. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Were you expecting someone else?" Making a scene of standing up without touching the floor, Grimmjow had no idea that he had looked in his completely black clothes like the god of death himself. One of the many reasons why Ichigo nearly had an heart attack upon entering his home and finding the supposedly hero inside his bedroom.

"Can't you just let me be?" Occupying himself with his backpack, Ichigo threw the flying man a glare, but stopped when he noticed one glaring change.

"Still frightened?"Grimmjow taunted.

"Your hair...it changed," he said dumbfounded, seeing the shiny black turn into bright blue. Even if the display fascinated him, he shook his head firmly. "Are you even listening? Get out! You'll just make everything worse!"

A scowl was his answer. "I would like you to stop ordering me around. I'll be wherever I want to be. Got that?"

"Not in my apartment!" Ichigo shouted angrily, before Grimmjow grabbed him by his arm, clenching it threateningly.

"You don't seem to listen-"

Afterwards Grimmjow had to admit that he was somehow shocked to hear that loud _Crack! _that followed his firm grip (like the tight grip with Matsumoto). Kurosaki had shook and, in the next moment, fallen to the floor moaning in pain. Grimmjow had eyed his hand incredulously, barely believing what had happened. He had broken his arm? Just like that? During all his life saving and his harsh treatment towards the victims something like that had never occurred.

* * *

"Grimmjow!" A sing-song voice appeared behind him seconds before two arms slung around his shoulders.

"Leave, woman," he hissed darkly and shook those arms away. He was already in a foul mood, no need to make it worse. Just after he had dumped the kid at the hospital with great protest of the cripple ("There's no point! I don't even have money to cover the treatment!") did he noticed that he shoved him the needed money into his hands to shut him up. What the hell had gotten into him that time? It was a week later and he still brooded over his idiocy.

He glared at the disguised Matsumoto who, in returned, grinned widely.

"I was just going to my favorite restaurant. Would you like to join me?"

His glare froze. Food? For free? Hah, like he would turn down such an offer.

After two hours, Matsumoto eyed him warily. "Where are you putting all this...?" she asked hesitantly, looking at the mountain of emptied dishes next to her guest.

"I burn a lot ofenergy," Grimmjow explained shortly.

"You always eat so much?" No wonder he needs the amount of money he asked from the victims...

* * *

"So, you are uber-fast, uber-strong, have uber-good sight and can fly? What else?" Ichigo was on his lunch break, eating a lousy sandwich. He was finally freed of his cast and was able to go back to work again, just to have this super-human start following him (most likely to get his money back). After several arguments, he had given up on trying to scare, order or get the man away. Grimmjow himself was like his daily accidents: inevitable.

Grimmjow looked up from his bag of small chocolate bars, eating them like any other would grapes.

"How about x-ray, heat-emitting and infra-red vision? Super-hearing? Super-breath?"

"Do I need to answer that?"

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders, eating the last bit of his lunch. "You know so much about my curse, and with me dying sometime soon, your secret will be safe."

Grimmjow cocked a brow. "You? Dying?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Ichigo jumped from the bench and loosened the kickstand of his bike. "My body can only suffer so much. It's just a matter of time until it'll collapse."

They walked next to each other.

"Nothing can harm me. My skin is unbreakable by fire or bullets or any pressure for that matter."

Whistling Ichigo looked the other over. "You never had a broken bone?"

Grimmjow tried to remember how it was without his powers, but couldn't remember not having them. He shook his head. "To be honest, I'm impressed that you haven't died already."

Ichigo smiled, a smile that that didn't reach his eyes. "Funny, huh? I wonder myself when that time will be. Maybe you can help me out?"

The mocking answer that should have followed didn't come.


	2. 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

A/N: Well, here is the second part! Thanks again for the reviewers of the first one! xD Now there are two parts left until this thingy's finished! I hope I'm not going overboard with the characters...

Warnings: Like last time (plot, Yaoi, angsty stuff, dramatic stuff, funny stuff, frequent abusing); it's still un-beta-ed (I know I shouldn't do this, but I'm kinda impatient...and the story's harassing my mind and I can't stop fiddling with it...argh!) Fell free to pick up the mistake and pelt me with them oô

Still, enjoy!

* * *

_If life seems jolly rotten there's something you've forgotten_

_and that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing._

_When you're feeling in the dumps don't be silly chumps,_

_just purse your lips and whistle that's the thing._

_And always look on the bright side of life._

_Come on always look on the bright side of life._

* * *

Again, it was a stupid fire. Grimmjow did his job just halfheartedly and seeing the coughing man in front of him made his bile rise.

"Please, help me," the man whimpered while clutching something to his chest. Grimmjow knew with one look that it was a little brat crying into his father's shirt. "Please..."

The fire was sizzling and seemed to be everywhere; smoke made it hard to see.

"Wallet," he said shortly and held out his hand, accepting the black leather that was thrown to him. There were five hundred bucks in cash and several credit cards. Three of them had disgusting smiling children on them. A photo of an obviously happy family with three toddlers. "The bills are enough for one of you." His blue eyes bore into the man's skull.

His eyes widened, darting back and forth between the kid in his arms and Grimmjow. "Wh...at?"

Grimmjow shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not saying it for the first time: I'm no hero."

* * *

The reason why he was in front of Kurosaki's window again, was...well, wasn't there. Grimmjow had no idea why he was there. However, he was a bit surprised at what he saw inside the apartment.

Kurosaki seemed to find something incredible funny because he was giggling like a school girl, as was the guy hovering over him, slobbering his neck with saliva and grunting bad lines. ("You're so fuckin' hot." "You want it, too, don't you, baby?") Grounding their pelvises together, Kurosaki's giggling/moaning increased until he started to babble again. ("Hey, what are you doin'?" "Hihi, feels good.")

Grimmjow couldn't decide whether the kid had sex or was soon to be raped. Either way, both of them seemed to be far from clean – drugs, alcohol, maybe both. When the moaning and the creaking got louder, he shrugged his shoulders. Would have been too late anyway.

* * *

Peering over her tropical fruit sundae (ice, whip cream, fruits, fruits, chocolate sauce, fruits, whip cream and a cherry on top), Matsumoto's eyes glinted gleefully. "You could consider this as a date."

Grimmjow was about to stand up and leave this fucking café if it wasn't for this gigantic chocolate sundae sitting right in front of him (screaming: "Eat me, Grimm, eat me! I'm so delicious!"). "I'm here for the food, not you."

Matsumoto smiled sweetly. "I know, I saw you and your cute boyfriend the other day."

The spoon hovered in the air right before Grimmjow's mouth. "My what?" he said lowly.

A giggle. "You know. The boy with the uniform of the postmen."

"He's nothing." Grimmjow grumbled at the icecream on his trousers, licking his spoon clean to prevent more damage. "Moreover, he's already fucking someone else."

"Oh."

Silent eating.

"You're lovesick?"

Grimmjow snorted loudly. God, this was fuckin' hilarious!

* * *

About a week later, Grimmjow found out the real usage of Kurosaki. Why hadn't he thought of that before? This guy was a magnet to any kind of accidents and, like he had said, since Grimmjow joined the party, others were invited as well. He would take every chance he could get.

Like this one.

Ichigo was currently busy in not peeing his pants. He had made the mistake and entered an elevator despite better judgment (he tended to use the staircase instead but since he had fallen one down the day prior, he wasn't able to climb them at all) Well, his bad luck, since the elevator decided to turn into a free fall and due to the window to the outside, every occupant could see how incredibly fast the ground came nearer.

Suddenly, in the middle of the fall, Grimmjow was there in his blue haired glory, grinning widely with thumb and forefinger rubbing in a clear motion of what he wanted. The waving wallets were the answer of the other occupants.

Bingo.

* * *

The newspaper made Renji frown. He had stopped going berserk over every article describing Blue Bird Bastard. Instead he opted to look at the pictures more closely. What made him frown was the fact that – it could have been is imagination, but he doubted it – he saw in almost every one of them Kurosaki nowadays.

His shoes scraped over the pavement and he took one look for the right direction before he lifted the paper again. Kurosaki, huh? Renji had one or two assumptions but he didn't dare to mention them to anyone. Since chief was back from Hawaii his mood was worse than ever and that man would kill him for 'assuming' anything.

* * *

"You're a disgusting asshole!"

Where had he heard that before? Honestly it was the first time Kurosaki used it.

"You...you just can't use my bad luck for...for this!" His hand gestured wildly and he had a panicked expression on his face. "That's just wrong!"

Grimmjow shrugged his shoulders. "Like I care. I'm not nice, remember?"

"I will not be used like this!"

In those blue eyes mirth was evident. Stepping up to Kurosaki, Grimmjow curled one hand into his neck. "Oh? So you liked to be used in a different, kinkier way?"

Ichigo paled. He swatted the hand away and stumbled back.

"So, it wasn't sex then? Got drugged and used or what?" He had to chuckle at the wide eyes turning more and more glassy with each passing second. "Hah, your life is not easy, is it?" he sighed theatrically, patting Ichigo's shoulder.

"Y-you saw...and...I...you-" A sniff.

Grimmjow tried to suppress his grin while he patted the lithe shoulder. "How about a deal? As long as I'm around you, I'll be able to keep you out of this kind of shit. Less pain for you, some donors for me, hm? It's win win."

Even if the brown eyes were filled with tears up to the brim, Ichigo scowled furiously at him. "I'd rather die than that!"

Humming, Grimmjow pulled his hand back. "Well, yeah. Might happen. Would be nicer than any other things anyway." He just needed to hit the right spot. "Torn apart while still alive, abused and used, gang-raped the next time some idiots lay their fingers on you.." And seeing the shattered look in Kurosaki's eyes, he succeeded.

Gulping once, realization dawned him – indeed there are worse things than death. He remembered fingers clawing at his skin, a sick grin and a shiny weapon... "Oh...god..." His whole stomach cramped all over, he clamped a hand over his mouth, breathed heavily and let his head drop onto Grimmjow's solid chest.

"Woah, hey," Grimmjow furrowed his brows and as gently as he was able to he pushed at the shaking shoulders (not too much force, remember last time...) "Are you crying? Jesus, you're not a kid anymore!" That seemed shake him even more. "Okay, that's it. Calm the fuck down! I'm here, right?" Didn't seem to reassure him much. Shaking his head, he took a step back. "I'll know if something will happen, okay? Sixth sense or so." He received no answer. "I'll be going." And he left Ichigo standing alone in the deserted place behind the convenience store. Left him feeling absolute useless.

* * *

In that mood Renji found him swaying through the streets. He had his day off, but felt his instinct take over when he saw the guy. He could use his free time more reasonable.

"Hey, Kurosaki." Said man didn't as much as flinch. Jogging up to him, Renji pulled him back by his elbow. His brows shot up into his hairline when he saw the dejected look in his eyes: At first Renji was left speechless and didn't do much when Kurosaki ripped himself away.

"You okay?" he asked lamely.

"Yeah, guess so." He stumbled some steps away.

"We could go and grab some food if you like," he offered and asked himself why Kurosaki should agree to that – eating something with the cop who questioned him at the local precinct.

"Better not," Kurosaki smiled awkwardly, turned and ran directly into a street lamp.

Renji sighed.

When they had grabbed another icebag and some burgers, they sat on the terrace of a family restaurant. Autumn made the weather rather cold and windy, but it was sunny at least.

"Be careful," Kurosaki said when biting into a burger. "Something might happen to you."

Renji cocked a brow. "Why? You think your bad luck is contagious?" He laughed. Kurosaki was not. "Hey, come on. Everyone is a bit clumsy." He remembered the article in the newspaper and asked himself if he could question him about it without looking too pushing. "You look better than the last time I saw you." In fact he had less visible bruises, although the look in his eyes didn't make that better.

"Really?" Kurosaki didn't seem to listen.

Taking a rather large bite of his burger, Renji observed the man next to him silently. That was until his mouth caught something incredibly hard and unbreakable that got him the feeling that two or three teeth suffered heavy damage. Spiting the food out, he stared incredulously at the bolt lying between it. "The hell?" he cursed loudly and used his tongue to feel if his teeth were alright.

Kurosaki lowered his burger and gulped slowly. "Sorry," he said.

* * *

"Grimmy!"

Since when did she use that nickname? No idea, but it was annoying as hell. He would love to ignore her, but Matsumoto meant usually two things: Food or money. Both were too good to let go so easily.

"What?" he barked out, cringing when she clung to his sleeve.

Batting her eyelashes, she smiled with mischief. "I've got a nice invitation for you!"

He hoped it was food, but she acted different than the other times.

"You like to come to my wedding?"

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her.

She pushed his arm, laughing. "Not you! It's someone I know for long time already. We'll just have a small party with barely any guest. The buffet will be gorgeous! You can bring your friend, too!" She dared to wink at him.

He smirked. Kurosaki? His smirk widened. Sure he'll bring him. It's just her wedding, after all.

* * *

Getting Ichigo to agree was way easier than thought. He threatened him with being alone and anything could happen during that time and Grimmjow wouldn't be responsible for anything that might have happened. The pale face and the frightened eyes and Ichigo nodded numbly.

So here Ichigo was, in front of an unknown skyscraper in the middle of the city. In the highest levels of the building, several spacious flats and penthouses were available for the upper society. He didn't know that Grimmjow belonged to them.

After a frightening long ride with the elevator, Ichigo was greeted by a gruff Grimmjow grabbing him by the collar and pulling him inside.

The last moment when Grimmjow was zipping up a white suit, Ichigo took the chance to have a quick look around. No plants, no animals, no books, no paintings, no decoration, no carpet, no chairs. A single couch, a respectable collection of home entertainment technology and a low table was everything visible in the big room.

"A bit empty, isn't it?"

Grimmjow grunted. With his luggage ready he motioned for Ichigo to go to the terrace.

"We're flying." Grimmjow said before Ichigo could ask. "Put on the coat and everything or you might freeze to death. I'll take you on my back, you'll take the luggage on your back, got it?"

Ichigo felt awkward crawling onto Grimmjow when he was crouching in front of him. "You're sure? This is a bit..."

"Get on! I hate the traffic jam and cars and everything. And this is the fastest way!"

"Where are we flying to anyway?" Ichigo stuttered when he secured his arms around Grimmjow's neck.

"Surprise" and Grimmjow jumped in the air.

* * *

After the abrupt start where Ichigo almost fell from his back and screamed like a little girl, the way out of the city was calm. They traveled southwards along the coast for an hour at a wild tempo, leaving Ichigo almost breathless on his back. When Grimmjow tried to get out of reach of the small airplanes, he pushed higher into the sky. Unfortunately, that was the point where Ichigo's body couldn't keep up with. Grimmjow barely noticed the arms slackening and leaving his neck when Ichigo was already falling. Grumbling irritated he shot after the unconscious idiot.

"Oi, Kurosaki!" he hollered after him, reaching the falling body and gripping him around the waist, slowing down until he landed gracefully in a grassy area.

"Hey!" Grimmjow patted his cheek roughly; his brow twitch when the boy gave no reaction. "This cannot be happening..." But how could he forget? The guy was a mere human and the abrupt change of oxygen in the air knocked him out cold. "Kurosaki?" Fuck, a bit too out cold.

He ripped the gloves off and his breath hitched when he saw his blue hands. Great. Abso-fucking-lutely great. He patted his cheek more gently and noticed just now that the kids face was freezing, as were his limps. "Oh shit..." And then one little detail: "Hey, you little shit, are you breathing?" Grimmjow didn't need to lean down to notice that he didn't.

Fuck...Ichigo should be his gold cow! And now he had killed him?

"Surely not...!" He opened the coat and ripped off the boots. His torso's temperature was close to that a body should have. Just before he was able to do anything close to CPR, he remember one thing: the last time he had used his strength one a 'low level', he had broken Ichigo's arm. With the luck of the kid he would smash his ribcage while massaging his heart or pop his lungs like a fucking balloon while breathing oxygen into his mouth.

Here we go...

He rubbed a hand over his face, taking a calming breath. As much as he hated it, he had to be gentle. Overly fucking gentle.

For him it felt as if he was merely tipping his ribcage with featherlike touches and when he took a breath, he let it linger in his lungs just a moment longer than needed. Grimmjow didn't push the air out, he just remained breathing calmly. He saw Ichigo twitching and repeated the procedure. As a tongue peeked out and brushed against his lips, Grimmjow was too baffled to do anything at first. Then his senses kicked in and he jerked back, whipping his mouth. "What the hell was that!" He was too enraged to feel relieved that Ichigo's chest was moving.

"I..." his voice rasped. "I saw an angle."

Grimmjow looked around, frowning. "Most likely not," he grumbled, coming close to the lying man again. "Awake?"

"My head feels funny..."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. He crouched down and lifted a still blue hand, rubbing small circles over it. "Do you feel this?"

"Clouds...," Ichigo sighed with a silly smile.

"I think I damaged your head..." Considering the bangs and bumps Ichigo had suffered before this time, Ichigo should already be resistant to this kind of injury.

"Pretty angle..."

...or not.

Despite his wariness he lifted Ichigo into a sitting position and rubbed as gentle as possible over the freezing other arm. "You're still out of it?"

Ichigo's reaction was a hand that traces Grimmjow's jaw who in returned start twitching.

"Whatever you're about to do, you'd better not...!" The annoying hand that ended up on his cheek started pulling his face downwards. Grimmjow – not really having good patience – barked a "what!", eying the delirious Ichigo skeptically.

"Mouth," he whined in a slurred voice.

"Oh no, you don't get that-" Suddenly Ichigo was attached to his mouth nonetheless. His first thought was to rip the arm off he was still holding onto. But when he didn't feel that slick, disgustingly wet muscle and, instead, felt Ichigo's arm heat up he stayed still. Seconds later, Grimmjow pushed away, testing Ichigo's hands and face and was surprised to see them warm and rosy.

"I have a healing breath..." he said flabbergasted. Then he laughed triumphantly: "Hah! I'm a genius!"

Ichigo snored to that, gone to slumberland already.

Putting his clothes back on, Grimmjow hoisted him up in his arms after he slung the other luggage onto his back.

* * *

Grimmjow would have been already at the island and would have eaten mountains of delicious food if it wasn't for Ichigo. He was forced to go stage by stage, returning to the warm ground to heat Ichigo back up.

Nevertheless he needed less than half a day traveling.

* * *

"Grimmy!"

If there had been any uncertainty that he was in the wrong hotel, the busty blond woman confirmed him that this was, indeed, the right place.

"Good to see you," she smiled, while he asked himself if anyone had ever been pleased to see him. Most probably not.

He let Ichigo down on the shiny floor of the lobby. His teeth were clattering and his nose and his ears bright red since Grimmjow had had enough the last three hundred miles and took them in one go.

"You must be Grimmjow's friend!" Matsumoto beamed. It lessened when she saw that the boy was barely responsive. "Is he alright?"

"Might be freezing a bit, but whatever. Where's the food? I'm starving!"

* * *

Ichigo was dumped into the Jacuzzi so that he was able to breathe normal and to move properly again. Meanwhile Grimmjow was filling his stomach and listened to Matsumoto's explanation of the following day. Obviously the whole wedding ceremony was held upon a private yacht on the sea with twenty guests. Grimmjow tried to imagine what might happen out there when Ichigo's curse kicked in. Twenty persons at once? Hm. Could be complicated, but he'll manage. The yacht could sink, simply. Or a hurricane could hit them. One or two idiots could go overboard. Pf, that would be simple. Or they would be attacked by the white shark.

Grimmjow liked his job.

"Why did you invite me anyway?"

Matsumoto smiled – he didn't know if she wanted to scare him but that smile seemed to be sincere. "You saved my life. Do I need another reason?"

Hm...

"Oh, and there-" without finishing her sentence Matsumoto leaped from her seat and run to the other side of the restaurant's dining area. Grimmjow chocked on a shrimp when he saw that silver creep making out with the busty actress.

She wasn't serious, was she?

"Grimmjow, this is my soon to be husband, Gin Ichimaru!"

Why did he come here again? Oh right, Ichigo and his talent.

"So, it's a pleasure Mr. Kidnapper."

"The pleasure is all mine."

_Oh, you have no idea_, Grimmjow thought. "You played your role fabulously."

Gin smiled creepily. He didn't even need to act. Matsumoto had a questionable taste of man but that wasn't his problem.

* * *

Later, he found Ichigo asleep on the wide bed of the hotel suite, snoring lightly. A well aimed pillow made the picture far better.

"What the-" Ichigo came up, rubbing his tousled hair.

"Move, that's not your bed!" Grimmjow growled.

"Urgh, Jesus, Grimmjow. You have garlic breath!" Keeping his nose closed, Ichigo scooted backwards.

"I like garlic."

"Well, I don't."

Rolling his eyes, Grimmjow pulled his shirt over his head and threw it into a random corner; his trousers followed. He punished Ichigo by pushing his dirty socks in his face and enjoyed the screeching scream and the fact, that Ichigo left the bed completely. "That's the way I like," he sighed, rolled onto his back and started snoring.

* * *

"Don't you brush your teeth?"

Grimmjow looked into the mirror, lifted his upper lip and examined his pearl white teeth. "No, I'm not."

"You know, you still smell of garlic. A bit."

"Shut up, you're now my girlfriend or what?"

Ichigo blushed at that and left the bathroom quickly. "You haven't told me yet why I'm here!" he shouted from the bedroom.

Grimmjow smirked at his reflection. "You'll see soon enough." And he knew Ichigo wouldn't be too pleased.

* * *

Well, he was right. Ichigo was furious. After he came out of his stupor.

"Matsumoto Rangiku and Gin Ichimaru are marrying..." he started slowly, turning to Grimmjow, his brows went down, his eyes blazing. "...and you asshole brought me here! Are you nuts!" he whispered harshly.

"Keep cool," Grimmjow smiled arrogantly, patting Ichigo's cheek mockingly. "You'll just be sitting here, nice and good, and everything's fine."

"Fine? You disgusting asshole! Their wedding should be the best day of their life and you...you..." The words failed him. "I hate you! I fucking hate you!" He would have turned on his heel and walked back into the hotel – hoping for the best – if he wasn't already on the stupid yacht, somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Tears prickled in the back of his eyes and he clenched his hands beside him.

"Keep smiling," Grimmjow whispered into his ear, patting his shoulder roughly. "Keep smiling."

* * *

Ichigo prayed to any available god that nothing would happen. He would take whatever fate would throw at him (going overboard, being eating by sharks or orcas,...), but just keep the goddamn couple safe: Matsumoto, the goddess in white, and Gin, the surprisingly charming husband. Even the assuring pat of the Japanese actress Kuchiki Ruika next to him (she asked him every two minutes if he was seasick) didn't lessen his nervousness.

The ceremony went smoothly; they said yes, they kissed, they were all love, peace and happiness. Ichigo blushed furiously when the bouquet of flowers landed in his lap and he felt even worse when the now married couple smiled at him encouragingly.

It went all downhill when the first raindrop hit the deck as the couple was cutting the wedding cake together.

"Grimmjow, I beg you, do something!" Ichigo was close to hysteric.

Grimmjow swatted him away like an annoying fly. "First I'll get my piece of cake," he said slowly (a five-story chocolate butter cream wonder with a thick white marzipan coating – he swore, that thing would kill him...!), "then I'll see the rest."

"Cake? Grimmjow, there is a storm coming and I swear if anybody gets hurt here I'll never forgive you!"

Grimmjow snorted. "Yeah, yeah, do that."

Minutes later and piercing the piece of cake with a fork, Grimmjow barely registered that the storm had hit them full force.

"Grimmjow, I'm so going to kill you!" Ichigo screamed over the roaring storm. Another heavy wave hit the yacht, making it sway dangerously, even if it was somewhere stuck (maybe a riff? a sperm whale?) .

"Good luck with that! Other mightier men tried that already." Grimmjow was the calm personified, moaning at the next piece of the wedding cake that was shoved into his mouth. He was about to get another piece, when the five-story wonder went overboard with the next angry wave. The clonk of Grimmjow's falling fork wasn't hearable over the storm. "Oh, fucking shit!" he cursed loudly and tousled his hair. "Okay, I'll do something!"

Ichigo would have been relieved if he wasn't busy in emptying his stomach over the railing.

The other guest of the party were either screaming or trying to maintain their pride be keeping their mouth shut. Matsumoto clung to her new husband, looking terrified by the weather. When Grimmjow approached them, she swayed to him, clinging to his jacket instead.

"Please, Grimmjow! Do something! Don't worry about the money!"

Grimmjow grinned. That was music to his ears. "Get them below deck! I'll lift the whole thing and bring it back to the island!" He saw Matsumoto's eyes going wide as saucers, but she nodded and wobbled to the guests. Handing the remaining husband his jacket and his shoes he run to the stern, looking over the railing. He never said he would keep the boat whole, so he was able to just rip it out wherever it was stuck.

Flying down to the roaring sea he was wet within seconds as the first wave hit him. He grumbled, pulled his hair out of his eyes and went under the water. The difficulty of the whole deal was to get a good grip on the damn thing. He swam under the hull and stopped by the middle of it. With a swift movement he plunged his hands in each side and _pushed_-

There was a heavy jolt when the yacht was lifted, leaving several guest screaming in fear and fascination, at least half of them fell on their butt, other could save themselves with a wall or another unmovable furniture.

Matsumoto's mouth twisted into a wide grin, stumbling back into Gin. "He really did..." She was speechless.

As speechless as the people on the beach. There was uproar when they saw a ship coming flying to the island; some were running away, others taking hundreds of pictures.

* * *

Matsumoto laughed loudly when she waded through the water. Her dress was ruined but she would never forget this wedding. Her husband wasn't as thrilled as she was. He eyed the broken ship with a heavy heart, then the drenched superhero warily.

"Your jacket," he said lowly when reaching the sandy beach.

Grimmjow ignored him and counted the guest. He hoped he had none forgotten – elsewhere Matsumoto might be not really willing to pay him. And as strange as it sounded, he liked to stay on her good side.

"Is anyone amiss?" The young Kuchiki asked, her eyes raking over the guests. Her brother, Kuchiki Byakuya, came up to her, patting her shoulder.

Grimmjow furrowed his brows. Someone _was_ missing.

"Where is Kurosaki?"

...shit.

* * *

Another wave crashed over his head, making him gag at another mouthful of salty water. Ichigo had no idea how long he had been there in the water, the rain still heavily falling and the waves showing no mercy. His sight was fuzzy since he had hit his head on the hull when falling overboard. He had thought about giving up but his body just wouldn't drown. Besides he was worried sick that somebody else was amiss.

Thunderbolt and lightning crashed over him.

He thought fleetingly about the sappy movie Titanic and wished he had a whistle. That somebody might hear it was doubtful, but maybe Grimm...? Wait, Ichigo had no money. Grimmjow didn't give a fuck if he drowned or not.

With the next wave he went under water, looked around the dark sea in wonder and saw the surface retreating from him.

A jerk, a pull and within the next second he was over the surface again, coughing wildly. Someone patted his back, nearly breaking his shoulder blade in the process. Nevertheless, it helped him to heave up and he vomited salty water all over the shoulder of his savior.

"Gee, thanks," a gruff voice said.

"G-grimm..?" he whispered and clung to the shoulder he was leaning on. Then: blackout.

* * *

He was warm when his consciousness started to surface again. He was dry, too, he noticed gleefully. Peering one tired eye open, he froze. Grimmjow kissed him. As simple as that was.

With a manly shriek he punched Grimmjow in the face, regretting it the moment his fist collided with something solid that seemed to be his jawbone made of steel. "AAH?" he shouted, the pain overrode the shock.

"Tsk, idiot."

Ichigo peered an eye open again, glaring at the other man. "You ass, you kissed me!"

Grimmjow sighed. "I did not."

"Oh right, you just put your mouth over mine because it was convenient?"

"It wasn't a kiss! My breath has healing abilities."

Ichigo snorted. "Riiiight." He shook his hand due to the prickling sensation of a soon to be swollen knuckle. "Ouch, here. You can heal my hand."

"It's just working via mouth."

Ichigo stared at him. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

Shaking his head, Grimmjow stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Get up, we'll just need another hour and we'll be back in the city."

Blinking stupidly, Ichigo looked around, missing the palms and the crystal clear water. "What about the others? Are they alright? Oh no, don't tell me someone drowned? Grimm, I swear if-AH?"

Having him hoisted over his shoulder, Grimmjow flew off.

"And if it had been a kiss, it would have been a really bad one anyway."

Grimmjow had almost dropped him because of that.

* * *

"A flying ship." Renji threw the news paper straight into the bin. "I have enough of this bullshit."

Stark snorted. "You don't believe it? Perhaps our Blue Bird has a competitor now?"

Leaning heavily into his chair, Renji shook his head. "No, I rather think it's him. He was there for whatever reason. I don't get it."

Due to a friend being part of the little wedding party, he had some firsthand information on the happening there, and he added more pieces to the theory he was thinking about. He just needed her to bring him the photographs she had promised him sooner or later.

* * *

Whenever Ichigo got the time to think things over, his thoughts drift off to one certain person: Grimmjow. He felt incredibly stupid doing so, but he couldn't help himself but wonder why the bluenette had given a shit whether he survived or not. In an afterthought, he blamed his curse that had still stuck to him and saved him out of the sea, although Ichigo doubted that he was in need of money. Certainly, the saved bunch of wealthy actors and actress had paid him silly, hadn't they? So...yeah, why..?

The answer to his questions came to his room – unexpected.

Ichigo's eyes widened when his breath was fanning over his face. He didn't get out a single word, barely blinked and breathed heavily through his nose.

"So, I suck at kissing, you said?"

Had he said something like that? Who knows? However, when Grimmjow plundered his mouth he doubted he had said anything remotely close to that. His pulse quickened and his legs and arms squirmed. He hardly could move the latter, being somehow secured over his head. His nostrils flared when a wet muscle was shoved into his mouth, making breathing so much harder.

Then a wet trail went down his throat, a pleasant sensation over his pulse point. Ichigo had to close his eyes because the picture in front of him was spinning. When he opened his lids again, the scenery had changed. He was still in his own bed, still staring at his broken, dirty ceiling, but that someone hovering over him and wetting his neck wasn't Grimmjow.

He heard a rusty laugh. "Ne, kid?"

Ichigo tried to scream but nothing came out. His teeth bit on something soft but awfully big that filled his whole mouth and pushed his tongue down. He trashed.

"Ssssh, calm down, little one," When hands went straight for the buckle of his belt, calm was the last thing he wanted to be. Legs and arms were bound and useless. He shifted his body and was shocked to feel his own erection. And suddenly it was bared for the world to see.

Ichigo broke out in cold sweat.

_"I'll know if something will happen, okay? Sixth sense or so."_

_God, then use that goddamn fucking sense! _Ichigo screamed inwardly, screwing his eyes shut, trying to force Grimmjow via telepathic (none existing) strengths to appear.

He heard a crash and blinked his eyes open again. He felt tears prickle in his eyes when he – so unbelievable it might sound – saw Grimmjow looking down on him.

"I hope you weren't having sex."

Ichigo shook his head furiously.

Bending down, Grimmjow loosened the gag first, throwing it over his shoulder.

"God, thanks," Ichigo whispered and rubbed his wrists when Grimmjow ripped the bindings off. His ears went red when he saw his own exposed state and pulled his trousers back on. "H-how did you know...? Where is he..?"

Grimmjow looked to the door leading to the kitchen. A sudden force smashed into him and he needed a second to notice that Ichigo had thrown himself at him, shaking like a leaf. "You're going now all girly?"

"Shut up," came the weak reply.

A click was heard before a bullet flew through the room, hitting Grimmjow's chest. He merely grunted and pulled the metal off him. The next shot hit his cheekbone, not even leaving a scratch.

Slowly Grimmjow's grin turned maniacal, his hair changing into his famous bright blue. "Just what are you trying to do?"

The other man wavered a moment, then pulled his weapon up once more. He loosened the safety catch and dashed for the door the next second. Grimmjow jumped after him, dodging the thrown weapon easily until it hit the floor, it triggered and hit the third person in the room.

When Grimmjow saw Ichigo lying on the floor something snapped. And one of those snapping things was the neck of the idiot dashing for the exit.

* * *

Renji cleared his throat uncomfortably when he looked Kurosaki in the eye. "You know why you're here?"

Kurosaki shifted lightly, wincing when he used his left leg. "I think so."

"After a neighbor of yours heard shooting he called immediately the police. We found a body in the apartment that was rented under your name, Mister Kurosaki."

He nodded sullenly, his eyes were downcast and tired.

"Can you tell me anything?"

"Yeah, the apartment was mine. I'm living there. The dead guy...well..." He had to clear his throat as well, picturing the scene over and over again. "He had a gun and everything after was self-defense."

"How could he enter your apartment?"

"Don't know. I was sleeping when he had, I guess."

Renji scribbled some notes. "Do you have an idea what he wanted from you?"

"Money, perhaps? No clue."

"So you say, he entered your apartment while you were sleeping, woke you during that time, had a gun and still, you were able to break his neck?"

Ichigo gulped. Should he mention Grimmjow? He should. He didn't want to. However... "Someone helped me to defend him."

Renji cocked a brow. "Oh, suddenly?"

"Perhaps he heard the noise we were making and came for help."

"And he wanted to help you so much that he, instead of you, broke the dead guy's neck?"

Ichigo blushed. "Eh, he seemed to be furious, during that time."

"Hot-headed guy, your friend."

Ichigo sweated. Make it sound believable! His friend had to be someone special who was willing to kill in order to protect him! His brother? No, he had no brother. Father? Uncle? Good close friend? Ichigo blushed more. "He was my lover."

"The one who helped you?"

Ichigo nodded.

"Care to tell me how his name is?"

Ichigo sweated more. "He...is a bit closed up of the coming-out-thing and rather stays hidden."

"Kurosaki, your lover has killed someone. I don't think false shyness will help here."

Oh god. What is he doing? "...I-I just made that up, that thing with the lover." He felt like smashing his head into the next wall. "We're barely friends," he admitted solemnly.

Renji cocked his other brow, then he sighed. "Please be so kind and bring him to the station. I need to ask him questions as well."

"B-but..."

Standing up, Renji walked to Kurosaki's side, laying a firm but gentle hand onto his shoulder. "It doesn't matter if he is homosexual or not. Don't be ashamed about that."

* * *

Grimmjow threw his head back and laughed loudly. "I'm _what_?" He could barely hold back the giggles.

Ichigo sunk further into the couch, his face was flaming red and hidden behind his hand. "Please stop."

"I should stop? Are you kidding?" He still snorted for a moment until his breathing calmed down again. "Seriously, and now I shall visit dear Mister Policeman and tell him a story?"

Ichigo feared Grimmjow would tell them so much nonsense that he would end in the prison sooner or later. "Tell them what you want. I don't care anymore." His life couldn't get shittier than it was already. With his home broken in and a bloody body lying on the floor he had stayed the last night on Grimmjow's couch. He doubted he was able to go there again without having nightmares.

"Shall I dress like a fag as well?"

"Grimm," Ichigo said in warning tone.

"Shall I kiss you, too?"

"I told him you're a closed gay guy, so no."

A series of laughter and giggles ended the discussion.

* * *

"Hello Mister..." Renji trailed off, still shaking the firm hand.

"Jaegerjaque. Grimmjow Jaegerjaque."

"Well, Mister Jaegerjaque, I hope your..._friend_ had already told you about the circumstances." There was this certain stress of 'friend'. The party maneuvered into the next empty room, Ichigo sat in one corner, the other two sat face to face on the table. "Can you explain why you took such drastic measures and killed the man? Wouldn't it be enough if you had taken the weapon somehow and called the police?"

Grimmjow cleared his throat, leaning forward. "Come here, officer," he said in a low voice, waiting for the other to come hither. Grimmjow threw a glance to Ichigo sitting in the other corner and eying them warily. Smirking, Grimmjow leaned down again.

"Imagine, you have this gorgeous little boyfriend over there. Cute, isn't he? Imagine, you want to pay him a visit all of sudden without calling him. So, you'll go into his apartment, because you have the spare key, you'll come into his bedroom and you'll see him bound to the bed post, gagged, his sweet crotch exposed and some slimy dick – in the true sense of the word – is trying to ram himself into his cute little asshole? I wonder what your reaction might be?"

Abarai's mouth fell open when he leaned backwards. "He never mentioned-"

Pulling the officer back, Grimmjow whispered: "You shoved him successfully from your little boyfriend, simply knocking him away. Your first priority is to get the kid out of this disgusting bondage. And all of sudden, the maniac you had shoved away, reemerged pointing a gun at you and your boyfriend. You'll, of course, throw yourself in front of the precious cutie, but somehow the dick still shot him in the leg. Don't you think that you can be really desperate to get this asshole away, no matter what? You'll struggle with him and in the haze – you don't remember how – he was suddenly lying right in front of you, with a broken neck."

Grimmjow leaned backwards. "I did what I had to do; I regret that I killed someone, but I don't regret that this dick died."

Abarai needed a moment to let that sink in, then he stood, went over to Kurosaki, demanded to see his leg and cursed loudly when he saw the wound.

* * *

Standing next to the side entrance smoking and waiting for Ichigo, Grimmjow lifted a brow when Abarai came out – without Ichigo in tow.

"He still needs to answer some questions in there," the officer explained, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, too. "Your friend likes to get in trouble."

"You want to do small talk?"

Abarai blew out the smoke through his nose. "No, I'm a bit worried about him, that's all. The accidents he was involved in and we're knowing about are...strange, I'd say."

Grimmjow didn't do much beside pulling up his cigarette again and taking a pull. "I met him because of those accidents," he said, eying the officer up and down.

Closing the metal door completely, Abarai threw his stub away, taking two steps closer to the still smoking man. "Okay, I've got two theories: 1. You two are working hand in glove and use these accidents, maybe even cause them, to get to money; or – the theory I like best – 2. You're an absolute bastard and use the kid's bad luck without shame to save the victims of the accidents he caused for ridiculously huge sums. That would explain why he was on so many crime scenes you were involved as well and it would explain why you were on the secret wedding with the kid by your side. Either way, I'm right that you're our little Blue Bird?"

Grimmjow's growing grin stretched over his thin lips. He spit his cigarette out, laughing.

"You're not believing me?" Abarai seemed to be prepared for this little chat, because when he grabbed into his jacket he pulled out three photographs. Holding them up as clearly as he could with one hand, Grimmjow used his good sight to run over them...and scowled.

He saw himself, he saw Kurosaki, the sea, the yacht he had let flying to the beach, the fucking cake that was so delicious, and he saw Matsumoto, smiling into the camera with him decorating the background again.

"I had a good connection on board of that ship. I have to admit I am glad that you pulled them out of the storm whereas I'm almost sure you had something to do with the whole accident."

Grimmjow still grinned. "You think I am so mighty to influence the weather? Well, thanks." A deep rumble emerged from his chest, a dark laughing. "And now?" he asked mockingly, "What are you gonna do? Put me into prison? Call your cop friends? Or better the military force?" He laughed. "You wouldn't live long enough to do that." In a fluid motion he lifted his arm, the motion so similar to the one before he broke the poor guys neck that this would have the same result if it wasn't for Ichigo screaming high pitched "Grimmjow! No!"

Irritated he looked down on the mob of brown hair that had jumped him again. He growled lowly when those thin arms encircled his torso again, clutching onto him.

"Don't, please."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes at the disgusting weak display. "Get away."

"Don't hurt him. I won't be able to see that again..."

"Then look the other way," Grimmjow growled, boring his blue eyes into the officer's head. Something of the look of the redhead ticked him off. "Wanna die?" he barked out, his fist shaking.

"Grimm!"

He had enough. With lightning speed a grabbed the whiny bitch's collar and threw him down the alley until he collided with a sickening crunch against a dumpster.

Abarai's eyes went wide and his hands shot towards his belt, his gun.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you." The calm, slightly insane voice made Abarai stop. "As if a stupid bullet would get a scratch on me. You guys never learn..." Grimmjow let false disappointment color his words. With a last grin he disappeared over the roofs of the neighboring buildings.

* * *

A bird had sang? So, he would use the next chance to meet the blond busty bird and ask her some necessary questions.

"Hey, Grimmy!"

Here we are...

They opted for cake and coffee this time, and Grimmjow made sure he had eaten everything before he started asking questions.

"How's Kurosaki? He was still unconscious when you left with him."

Grimmjow wanted to say that the guy probably had to nurse a broken skull. He didn't. Instead: "No idea, hadn't seen him in a while." That wasn't a lie. Since he had smashed him in the dumpster he didn't as much as hear a peep from him. Was he hiding?

"Such a shame. He is a nice guy, isn't he?" He guessed she was referring to something else where he had no business with, but he smiled charmingly.

"You have no idea." An idea hit him. "Sadly, I barely got any pictures of him or the two of us. I wonder if someone took pictures of the wedding."

Matsumoto giggled. "Of course. You remember the small brunette and her brother? Kuchiki? She couldn't stop taking pictures of the cake and every guest."

"Did any other guest made pictures, too?"

"No, I asked them not to. They all were friends, but some gossip papers would pay huge sums for a picture of our wedding. I didn't want anybody to put on the spot, did I?" He grinned. He got the bird. So there was no need in throwing the blonde from a skyscraper. His luck. "But the little Kuchiki is really trustworthy. She is one of my childhood friends and wouldn't use those pictures in a shameful way. Actually, I wanted to give you one picture, too."

The present, a picture in a disgusting kitschy frame, showed Grimmjow and Ichigo. He was leaning over the other's shoulder, whispering something in his ear with a shit eating grin; Kurosaki blushed like a little girl. ("Keep smiling" he had whispered, hadn't he?) He liked it. Somehow.

* * *

Instead of a broken skull Ichigo nursed a cup of warm tea. Nevertheless his head was covered in several layers of bandages and it felt as if someone hit him repeatedly with a sledgehammer.

Renji sat on the opposite side, wearing casual clothing, not his uniform.

"So, you have no idea?"

Ichigo shook his head slowly, fearing the head ache would split it in two. "I don't think there is a thing like Kryptonite out there that would weaken him." Despite his bad injury he smiled. "He's unstoppable."

"Sadly he has the attitude of a fucktard."

Ichigo laughed weakly. "Yeah, sadly."

Sighing, Renji placed his cup down and went into his kitchen to look after the pizza in the oven. Actually it is inappropriate to have someone like Kurosaki at his home, but he couldn't help himself. The kid...needed help. Seriously.

"Don't let false gratitude influence you." Renji found out, that, indeed, the thing with being lovers was a white lie. However, the almost-rape wasn't. Even he felt gratitude towards the bastard that he had preserved bad things from happening. Just...

"There is no weakness. And I think it's good that he got such a bad attitude." Ichigo felt Renji's incredulous stare. "Imagine," Renji cringed at the word, "imagine he was a naive hero of a comic book. He wouldn't survive in a city like this. So many people would try and use him as they wish..."

Coming to one conclusion, Renji put the pizza down the low coffee table. "You like him."

Ichigo looked away, chewing on his lower lip. "He saved my life. More than once."

Snorting, Renji took a slice. "And almost killed you, too. Moreover, the saving and all, it's his job, so to speak."

A look. "He didn't take money."

"Then he's using you as a decoy." Seeing the depressed look in the brown eyes, Renji wished he had kept that to himself.

* * *

The windows were already open when Grimmjow flew inside. The room was dark and out of one corner the reek of puke emerged. His eyes didn't need any time to accustom to the darkness and he saw Kurosaki lying in one bed without a problem. Grimmjow wouldn't know that he had puked his gut out some hours prior and was feeling like a crippled piece of shit. His head was killing him slowly and with all the pressure of the heaving the pounding had increased to an unbearable level.

Grimmjow eyed him a long time. "Yo, you look like shit." He pushed his hands in his pockets and landed silently on the carpet right in front of the bed. Kursosaki was awake, looking at him, but didn't say anything. "And? Have you told the little officer everything? Like you knew something about me in the first place." Grimmjow laughed.

The sheets were lifted and a chalk white hand came out. It reached for Grimmjow but the bluenette ignored it. The chapped lips of Kurosaki moved, but nothing was said. Kurosaki seemed to be struggling and just with the fine hearing of Grimmjow he could make out what the other was saying.

_"Please kill me."_

Grimmjow was silent. He crouched in front of the bed, still ignoring the shaking hand, and leaned in close. "Does it hurt this much?" he whispered in a mocking tone. Kurosaki repeated his plea. "Come on, you have survived worse than that." Truth to be told, he had no idea if the slip of his hand was a tiny bit too much for the kid. Combined with the vomiting it was.

Staring at the pathetic picture of misery that was Kurosaki he sighed once, twice, before leaning over the white face.

"You'd better reward me for this," he said and pushed his mouth to Ichigo's as lightly as possible and let his magic work.


	3. 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

A/N: Hey there. Okay, I have do admit that this time-out between chapter 2 and 3 was a little bit longer than I had planned oô (to put it in a nice way). I genuinely apologize for that! Frankly, that's one of the reason I rather write one-shots. I can't guarantee that the next chapter won't take as long. I had planned to make just four chapters, but after all this time I decided to add another...hopefully. I'm in my final semester for my Bachelor-degree, so please be merciful!

warnings: my grammar/spelling – even though the first chapter is finally beta-ed, this one isn't; Yaoi, angsty, dramatic, funny? Oh, and it's getting a little bit...heated. And violent/bloody. Better expect everything and nothing at all.

Thanks for all the reviews!

Enjoy reading! (and please let me know if you do, or don't ;3)

* * *

_For life it's quite absurd and death's the final word,_

_you must always face the curtain with a bow._

_Forget about your sin, give the audience a grin,_

_enjoy it, it's your last chance anyhow._

_So always look on the bright side of death,_

_just before you draw your terminal breath._

* * *

Stark sat his cup down, eying his partner thoroughly. "You're getting too much into this."

Renji eyes flashed. "Have you seen him that day? During the night I thought he would die for sure!" He drove a hand through his hair. "It's impossible, but the kid stood the next morning as if nothing had happened. Nothing!" Renji reached the limit of his innermost beliefs.

"Renji, calm down."

"I am calm," he hissed furiously. "I'm...calm, okay? Calm." He sighed. "Okay, I'm not calm." He lowered his head on his table.

"Was it Blue Bird?"

Lifting his head again, Renji stared at Stark. "After he smashed him into a solid wall?"

Stark shrugged his shoulders. "Mood disorder, maybe he has a split personality? Everything's possible."

Renji snorted. "You tell me..."

* * *

Someone knocked at his door. Nobody had ever knocked at his door. It would have made Grimmjow wary or careful, but what should happen? A bomb exploding? A shame for his penthouse, unfortunately for the attacker it wouldn't leave a scratch on him.

So he got annoyed. Opening the door with a death glare, he cocked a brow at the cowering Kurosaki, hiding behind a box. "What?" he said slowly.

Gulping once, Ichigo shoved the box into Grimmjow's hands and fiddled with his own hands afterwards. "I-I tried my best, b-but it was my first time. It may look a bit bad, but it should taste just fine...hopefully."

The content looked like a big pile of shit, but the smell told him it should be a cake. Eying the...cake or whatever it was, then Kurosaki, Grimmjow cocked his other brow as well. "And?"

Sitting side by side on the couch, Ichigo looked at the poor piece of chocolate cake that crumbled on his plate. Grimmjow had decided he didn't need a plate and just shoved the brown mass with a fork into his mouth, right out of the box. After Ichigo had seen him eating breakfast at the hotel he wasn't surprised by the bluenette's eating habits.

The room was really empty. He wondered about the collection of the five identical remotes sitting side by side under the flat screen television. The plug of the whole system wasn't inserted in the outlet.

"Well..." Grimmjow said when he had shoved half the cake inside his stomach. He pondered how he could express himself. "The amount of butter is horrible. It seems like a cake a chick would bake – low calorie or whatever shit they would pull." He thought some more. "The box with sugar was empty after you used it, wasn't it?" Another forkful of the sweet mass. "Say, you weren't prissy with using chocolate?"

Ichigo blushed heavily, the lump in his throat got thicker. "I used about half a kilogram...or so," he mumbled.

Grimmjow nodded once. "At least you got that right," he said – was that contentment in his voice? – and continued eating in silence.

"Where are you putting all this?" Ichigo asked, after Grimmjow pushed the box away, licking his chocolate coated fingers. His shirt had lifted, revealing a flat and very muscled stomach.

"Right here," Grimmjow laughed, patting his belly with a cleaned hand. "Care to tell me now why you're trying to get on my good side?"

"You think I would try to bribe you with food?"

"You don't?"

Ichigo put the box back together, ready to leave soon. "It was a..." A light cough. "thank you...you know."

At first, his expression seemed to be torn between something until a scary grin won over. "I told you my breath is mighty...!"

* * *

"Any idea why the kitchen exploded?"

The tips of his ears reddened painfully. Putting his shoes next to Renji's black boots, Ichigo looked up to the man leaning causally on the wall to the entrance.

Ichigo shoved the empty box in a random corner. "I baked." At least, he had tried. Considering that Grimmjow always ate as much as a horde of starving animals he wasn't sure if he had succeeded or not. "Sorry for the mess..."

Surprisingly, Renji dragged him into the kitchen – every spot was cleaned, wow – and pulled his hands under the kitchen light. "You burned your fingers."

"Happens."

"And you cut them open. Repeatedly."

Coughing. "I chopped chocolate..."

"What's with the bump on your forehead?"

"Cupboard," Ichigo mumbled, feeling like a stupid kid. "Look, I know and you know, too, that I tend to have several accidents a day. So don't point them out so shamelessly!"

Changing the topic, Renji grinned at him. "Who were you baking for?"

"...uhm, a...friend?"

"He ate all of it?"

"What can I say, he seems to be a bottomless pit." With Grimmjow's table manners in mind the term should be 'bottomless pig'.

* * *

Since Ichigo was able to work again (nobody but him knew that it was thanks to Grimmjow) he left the apartment when Renji was still asleep and would, at most, be turning onto his other side, snoring. His shift started at half past five in the morning and ended half past three. At four he met Matsumoto Rangiku whom he had run over with his bike in the morning. (he had been almost desperate when apologizing until the busty woman laughed "You were the one flying like a stuntman.")

She told him she often met Grimmjow around this area and loved to bribe him so that he would eat with her and entertain her. Ichigo was impressed that she could effort something like that.

"A week ago, he almost smiled when he saw me!" She giggled gleefully, stirring her coffee. "He said he had eaten something horrible and was glad he could get the taste away." She didn't notice how Ichigo's face froze. "What was it again?" Tipping her spoon against her full lips, she made a humming sound. "Oh, chocolate cake or something."

"Oh, really?" Ichigo laughed hollowly with her, his whole gut clenching uncomfortably.

"Yeah. Too sad, usually he doesn't talk much. He couldn't even tell me how you were doing!"

He plastered a smile on his face and rubbed his neck. "Oh, I'm fine. Nothing happened. There isn't much to tell anyway."

* * *

Boredom seemed to be the reason Grimmjow was here again. Unlike last time, the window was closed but he saw just fine. He didn't know what to think when he saw Kurosaki lying in bed with a certain Mister Officer above him, involving him in an interesting make-out session. He thought about crashing the window down and snapping his neck like he had already practiced once, but the redhead reeked of so much alcohol, he could make it out even through the window.

If something would happen in the cop's house, Grimmjow wouldn't feel any responsibility.

* * *

Renji was mortified. After waking up naked in the wrong bed and an aching head, he stumbled gracelessly to the station and was punished with Stark's knowing gaze. That guy, as much of a sleepyhead he was, was one of the most experienced cops he had ever met with observation skills you got the newbies shitting their pants.

"I better don't ask," he said when seeing Renji's face.

"You got that right."

Although Renji went almost hysteric because of what might have happened that he couldn't remember, Ichigo was frighteningly calm once he was back at his apartment. He had just shrugged his shoulders, smiled sheepishly and assured him nothing had had happened.

"So...I did not...?" Renji felt his cheeks heating up.

Ichigo snickered. "Well, if you're not disgusted with kissing a guy, then there would be no problem. You were too drunk to get it up anyway."

Renji's head fell onto the backrest. That was just...worse.

"By the way, you're a good kisser, even drunk."

He chuckled half-heartily. "Thanks, I guess." He lifted his head up a bit, peering at Ichigo's still smiling face. "At least you're not looking as depressed as yesterday."

That changed faster than Ichigo had liked. The same night, his head had just hit the pillow, a snicker was heard from the slightly opened window. Bolting up, Ichigo stared wide eyed at Grimmjow swaying his leg on the windowsill.

"How boring," he complained, cleaning his ear with a pinky. "No action tonight?"

"Sorry, that I don't bleed when you're in need for entertainment!" Ichigo shot back angrily, pulling the comforter around himself due to the cold autumn air coming from the open window.

"Jeez," Grimmjow sighed, pulling out a package of cigarettes and lightening one. "Have you looked in a mirror yet? Seems like someone tried to eat your neck." Instead of turning into a red glowing light bulb, Ichigo scowled at him, covering his neck with one hand.

"None of your business!"

Grimmjow grinned. "So, if Abarai shoves his dick up your ass I don't need to interfere? Good, I wasn't so sure yesterday night."

"You...you..." Ichigo's scowl intensified, making Grimmjow laugh silently. He wasn't taken serious! "Even though he was drunk he kissed better than you!" he snapped almost childishly and got even angrier when the other continued laughing. "And he's nice for a change, not an absolutely egoistical dick—"

Grimmjow had his hand faster around Ichigo's neck than he was able to blink. Squeezing the throat threateningly, feeling the hammering heartbeat, Grimmjow seemed to be pissed.

"What was that?"

Ichigo's eyes widened when he saw that the other held his glimmering cigarette in front of his nose. The tiny hairs on his cheeks stood to an end. "G-grimmjow, stop it!" His voice sounded hoarse under the pressure. The cigarette dangled in front of his left eye now. "_Grimmjow!_"

"Oh? Now you're scared?"

Panicked Ichigo swatted at the burning stick, and hit it full force. Unfortunately, Grimmjow's hand didn't buck an inch, so instead of swatting it away, he pushed it right into his flesh. And he screamed.

"You idiot!" Grimmjow growled lowly, squeezing Ichigo's mouth shut and squishing the cigarette in his other hand. "Sometimes I think you're just an idiotic klutz!"

Ichigo's burned hand shook heavily, tears prickled in his eyes and Grimmjow had shoved his hand so harshly against his mouth that his lower lip was cut open by his own teeth.

"Ichigo?"

Grimmjow cursed, grabbed Ichigo under the armpits and was out of the room when Renji opened the door to the guest room, finding it empty.

* * *

By the time both landed on Grimmjow's terrace, Ichigo was almost frozen. The night was terribly cold and he was just clad in shorts and a light t-shirt.

The procedure of getting Ichigo's mouth open was even more tiresome.

"If you don't open your mouth any minute..."

Ichigo whimpered but clamped his hand even more firmly over his lips. He tried to glare but due to his face contorted with pain it looked rather pathetic.

"Okay, stay with the burn. But if I hear any kind of hiss or whine again..." Standing up, Grimmjow stomped loudly out of the living room.

Ichigo would have sighed relieved but he didn't get the shaking out of his limps. He was so cold and couldn't find a way to get himself warm. He almost rubbed his hands together when the pain in his palm reminded him why he better not do that. His bare feet showed his toes he could barely feel anymore.

Grimmjow came back, shirtless with wet hair and a big plate full of meat (beef steaks, grilled, fresh out of the fridge). He sat it noisily onto the coffee table and plopped himself beside the still shaking man.

Munching onto the food, Grimmjow grabbed after one of the remotes and flicked through the channels.

Pulling his knees up, Ichigo laid his head on them.

"Was that a hiss?"

The head shook vehemently.

Silence.

With a next try to get warmer, Ichigo rubbed his feet together, making a strange noise on the cold leather couch.

"I hope you're not whining," Grimmjow growled, throwing a sideglance to his guest. At seeing the pathetic picture the same strange sense of pity overwhelmed him that he had felt when the kid had begged him to kill him. He pulled onto his sleeve and nearly chocked him when the collar dug into his throat. "Come here," he said more calmly, pulling once more.

Ichigo squeaked loudly, when he was gripped by the back of his shirt and drag down again. His back hit the couch and his head landed in the other's lap. He wanted to leap out of this position, but a flat hand pushing onto his stomach knocked his breath out of his lungs.

He struggled even more when he felt that mouth against his, breathing warm air in and out. And then, he smelt it, felt it. Something intoxicating. Drug-like, that filled his lungs and made his head feel lighter than it should. He pushed against Grimmjow's chest once again without really trying to get him away and he just _breathed_.

He doubted Grimmjow knew what kind of effect this mouth-to-mouth thingy had on him. There was a prickling feeling in his legs and arms and stomach until he assumed that he was drugged to the eyeballs. As if on their own accord his hands came up and tangled his fingers into the thick hair, pulling lightly. He felt Grimmjow stiffen. In his head he heard a giggle that sounded like him, but wasn't him and the same voice told him stupid orders and then, he just felt like it, his tongue peeked out, brushing against those lips hovering above his own.

He giggled at seeing the shocked/angry look in Grimmjow's eyes when he had ripped himself away. His tongue fell back as if too weak and landed on his upper lip. Grimmjow gripped one of his arms and examined the palm, looking like he was content with whatever he saw.

"Mouth!" Ichigo demanded when the light feeling slowly made way for gravity and he just wasn't ready for that. He never heard Grimmjow's answer because he was out cold before he could say it.

When he woke up, he was still lying on the couch. The sun shone through the wide window to the terrace, a comforter was wrapped securely around him. His head pounded furiously.

He groaned loudly when he rolled onto his back, his muscles aching.

"Get up," a familiar voice growled and said man kicked against the couch, making it jolt up.

Ichigo tousled his own hair and screwed his eyes open. "What!" he grumbled, curling up. Then he remembered. "Molester!" he screamed loudly and bolted upright.

"You were the one adding tongue," Grimmjow reminded him and scowled at the memory.

"Shit, you need to stop trying to mouth-rape me," Ichigo complained when a prickling feeling reached the back of his head. "Were you doing drugs before? Your breath sure smelt like it."

He was almost hit by the boot thrown into his direction. It landed into the wall where it left a visible dent.

"Are you insane!" Ichigo shouted wide-eyed, jumping to his legs.

"At least you're up now."

Five minutes later, a plate as big as the one of last night was placed onto the coffee table again. The gigantic version of scrambled eggs with bacon was laid onto it.

With a warning grunt, Ichigo got the message and scooted over, making room for Grimmjow to sit down.

While watching TV he ate half the food, only stopped to drink or shift the channel. He definitely was no morning person.

"If you don't eat now, don't complain when the plate's empty."

Ichigo silently picked up the fork and tried the egg. It was plain, no salt or pepper or any herb. In the same fashion the bacon was made. "Maybe you should get laid. Your mood is terrible."

By Grimmjow's glare Ichigo was glad that he didn't have a cigarette lightened.

"Me? Getting laid?" The laughing that followed was loud and didn't suit the moment. Ichigo didn't like it. "The last bitch I had was whimpering afterwards that I probably had broken her pelvis." Ichigo gulped. "And when I took the last boy, I almost cracked his spine and paralyzed him." Those blue eyes were angry and boring right into Ichigo's skull. "Nobody can handle me, Kurosaki!"

Obviously having hit the _completely wrong nerve_, Ichigo stuttered: "You...you just have to be gentler!" His voice sounded soothing, at least, he hoped it did.

"I am fucking gentle!" Grimmjow's hand shot forward and grabbed his upper arm, squeezing. "I can hardly feel this touch and you're looking at me like I'll rip your arm out any second!"

Ichigo winced. The grip hurt but he didn't dare to say it out loud. He wanted to shift away, shove the body away that towered over him, but he was busy staring in those angry blue eyes and expecting to be hit the next instant.

"Should I treat everything around me like it was made of fucking glass?" Grimmjow's nostrils flared and he pushed Ichigo back, letting go of his arm in the process. Ichigo scrambled from the couch, fearing Grimmjow would lash out again and he knew just how well that had worked out the last time. He had to get away. He had no idea what kind of slip could happen when Grimmjow was like this.

He had barely made it to the doorway as Grimmjow's frame was in front of him without having noticed how he did so. Ichigo staggered, stumbled back again and turned on his heel and run further into the room again. He didn't get far when he was grabbed by the back of his shirt again and was flung across the room. His breath left him when he hit the leather backrest of the couch. When stars stopped dancing in front of his eyes, he saw Grimmjow straddling his waist. His hands pushed him by the shoulder into the couch.

Ichigo was scared. Really scared. He screwed his eyes shut, hoping whatever was coming to him would be over soon.

Grimmjow kissed him.

The lips were hard over his, his warm hands curled around his neck. The movements were massaging, nipping, probing until a wet muscle trailed over his lower lip. Even the tongue in his mouth felt hard. Strangely Ichigo noticed that Grimmjow – beside the subtle aggression – tried to be gentle (he wasn't gentle) but he noticed as well, that Grimmjow had problems to accommodate his strength with that of a normal human. Even the hand on his neck and the hand on his cheek were too rouge to feel comfortable.

Slowly Grimmjow pulled away, hovering with his warm breath over Ichigo's face. Ichigo used his tongue to examine his teeth whether all of them were still attached to his jaws. He looked up in those silently questioning eyes. What was Grimmjow expecting? Did he want to pretend that had been anything close to gentle? It certainly wasn't. Grimmjow didn't even looked like he enjoyed it. But for what fucking purpose...

"Use less tongue." Ichigo whispered after a while when he found his speech again and got to one conclusion. "And use less strength. Just a tiny little bit less."

Grimmjow dove in again, surprisingly taking his advice. So, Ichigo was right: he was a mere prove. At least Grimmjow didn't try and ripped him apart or whatever, but demonstrated his capability with sucking his breath out... Grimmjow's hands were massaging his neck, sending tingles up his spine. He focused more on his lips, trying his best to make it as pleasant as he could for Ichigo. When he wandered lower, he nipped at his chin, his jaw.

"Less teeth; no biting." Ichigo gasped out as shudders wrecked his body and Grimmjow worked on his pulse point.

A jerk went through Ichigo, making the man groan. "More tongue." he instructed, feeling it licking at a sensitive spot of his neck.

When Grimmjow attacked his mouth again, Ichigo felt his lip push into one of his teeth again, a metallic taste filled his mouth. Grimmjow seemed to notice it as well, pulled away and looked at the split lip and the smeared blood. Frustration grew in his eyes again. He looked like he would snap any moment. Slapping his palm into Grimmjow's face lightly, he got those wild eyes to focus again. "Calm down," Ichigo said silently.

Grimmjow kissed him hesitantly again. With a kind of new found braveness, Ichigo wrapped his arms around the other's neck, dragging himself up and closer to Grimmjow. The bluenette's hand reached from his neck down to his waist, it rubbed small circles around his lower back. Instead of just sitting there like a dead fish Ichigo started kissing back, giving Grimmjow as much resonance as he was willing to give.

When they stared at each other again, Ichigo felt that this could be the only way how he was able to help Grimmjow for a change. The possible fear was pushed into the back of his mind. Ichigo could worry later and since Grimmjow looked like he was far from being satisfied with his proving, one thing was sure to come.

Grinning nervously, Ichigo whispered in his ear. "Wanna move it to your bed?"

* * *

Grimmjow was as if obsessed. He could barely spare a glance at Kurosaki. He repeated in his mind over and over again, screamed at himself that he could do it. He could pull this shit. He could be as goddamn gentle as he wanted! He just had to concentrate. He couldn't risk looking at Ichigo or he might snap. He had to do this slow and gentle. So fucking _gentle_.

His hips were moving so fucking slowly, too slowly? Surely not. Maybe he was pushing too strong? Shit. He had no idea.

Slitting his eyes open, he looked down to the young male.

Oh. Had he done that?

Kurosaki was a sweating, shivering, moaning and mewling mess. He tossed his head from one side to another. He was babbling stupid nonsense, gripped his own sweat soaked hair or the sheets, he was weeping.

Grimmjow was dumbstruck.

When Kurosaki arched his back and covered himself in his own body fluids, Grimmjow was so surprised that he stumbled after him – so to speak. It hadn't been overwhelming, he hardly felt it. He was surprised there had been coming out something at all, that he or his junior had reacted at all. Kurosaki, on the other hand, looked like his limps were jelly. His eyes were cloudy, he panted as if he had been running a marathon. Grimmjow hadn't sweated a single drop.

Then Kurosaki smiled at him, a dashing smile, reached up, curled his arms around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him – just like that – keeping him down onto his sweat covered torso.

Grimmjow didn't know what to think.

* * *

Even after Grimmjow left the bed, Ichigo wasn't ready to stand up. He wasn't ready to move at all. Grimmjow had sex like this? Men and women alike should be bowing at his feet. As the feeling returned to his limps, Ichigo pushed himself up. Shit, he had been lying for hours as it seemed, and most probably Renji had to be worried sick.

Rather crawling than walking out of the bedroom, Ichigo couldn't find the bluentte at first. So he checked the area around the television in the living room for a telephone. Finding nothing he went over to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway by seeing Grimmjow sitting at the table.

He stared at a glass filled with water as if he was trying to make it boil. No success.

Ichigo made the first terrible mistake that day and – in his carefree, good mood – he walked up to the other, wrapped his arms around his shoulders and kissed his neck.

He hadn't had the time to murmur "morning" or any greeting for that matter. The incredulous stare Grimmjow gave him when he had shoved him away promised more harsh treatment and Ichigo was glad that he hadn't lashed out immediately.

"The fuck?" Grimmjow's voice was slow and dangerously low. Ichigo regretted ever going near him on his own accord.

He stammered a greeting not sure what to expect.

"You could have said that from the doorway." Grimmjow was friendly as ever, and his mood was worse than during breakfast.

"What is your problem?" It was Ichigo's second mistake that triggered Grimmjow to almost spear him with his glare.

"_You_ are my problem!"

Ichigo felt taken back. "Excuse me? Weren't you the one nailing me down the mattress? Or do you treat everyone like that after good sex?"

"Good?" Was Grimmjow laughing at him? "It wasn't good, it was pathetic. You were pathetic!" Driving a hand through his hair, Grimmjow stood, slowly walking up the the frozen Ichigo. "You know what? If it had been good you would be wailing like girl. I was busy thinking why I rather not ram myself into you like I wanted to, because you wouldn't be able to handle that. You were already overwhelmed? Pah! I didn't even get off on that, the worst sex I had had since...well, ever."

Ichigo's eyes went wider with every word Grimmjow hissed at him. His mouth trembled. "You're such an asshole." He felt embarrassed by the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

"And you knew that even before you had spread your legs so willingly!"

Ichigo didn't get out an answer. He would have slapped him, punched him, drove his knee in his gut if he didn't already know what the result was to those actions.

"Get me home," he whispered with a thick voice.

* * *

Upon finding the guest room empty with the window wide open, Renji almost freaked out. His apartment was in the seventh floor and the emergency stairs were on the other side of the building, attached to his room. Then he calmed himself, remembering the connection to the Blue Bird. Torn between feeling assured by the fact and frightened by it all the same, he waited in the guest room the whole night, hoping the young man would return.

When the time called for him to go to work, he made a short call to Stark, always getting there the most comfort.

"Stay at home, I'll cover you up."

The whole morning went by agonizingly slowly. At twelve prompt he stood, stalking into the kitchen. Just when he had dialed Stark's number again, Renji could swear he heard something from the guest room. Hanging up on Stark's hello, he walked right back, almost toppling over when he saw Ichigo sitting on the edge of his bed as if sitting there the whole night.

Renji rubbed his temple. He took an unsure step closer as Ichigo lifted his gaze.

"Sorry, I worried you, didn't I?" He smiled a terrible smile after that, trying to reassure Renji but making it worse.

Renji was over him in a second, clutched onto his shoulders and ignored the jerk that went through the other's body.

"Fuck, Ichigo, you...what happened? You're—"

"Nothing." The pathetic face was whipped clean the next second, the voice turned as dull as the brown hair. "It's okay. It's..." Pause. "Nothing." he repeated.

* * *

Grimmjow didn't feel ashamed of what he had said and done. To be honest, he had it almost forgotten by the time of dinner. He felt lazy and opted to stay at home for next days, being occupied with sleep mostly.

After eating, watching television and doing nothing much, he was irritated by the annoying behavior of the people shown on the TV and his fridge was painfully emptied. Rubbing his chin in thought of where he could go for groceries, he noticed his growing stubs. Even if he was a man with super-powers, Mother Nature saw it fit to equip him with useless hair in his face as any other man. Luckily, his hair wasn't as stubborn and resistible as any other part of his anatomy, making it hard but not impossible to shave.

Washing his face with clear water afterwards, he looked in the mirror for a moment.

Then his eyes widened in shock.

On the underside of his jaw, a small trail of blood trickled down his skin, making him see his own blood the first time he could remember...

He had to get that through his skull. Needing a place to think it over he kicked his couch to get it in front of his window. It budged and moved, but left a strange feeling in one of his toes. Looking down he saw it reddened.

What the fuck...?

He sat on his couch for hours, staring into the starless night. He found out that the strange feeling in his feet was pain, something he had never felt before. At least not as nagging as this pain was. He didn't know how to stop it in the first moment, hoping it went by like a bad taste in the mouth. He was embarrassed that something so tiny and insignificant had actually gotten a reaction out of him.

Something was amiss. Something was terribly amiss.

And the only thing he could remember what was different to all those months and years of his life was...Kurosaki.

His eyes narrowed when he thought about the possibility that the guy had poisoned him with his cake. It seemed to be the only plausible conclusion.

Throwing the glass door to his terrace open he run to the edge of the roof and jumped into the air.

He had insanely luck that he landed in a pool of a neighboring building after several seconds instead of falling straight downwards by hundred meters or so.

Gasping and panting he emerged on the surface of the water, feeling hurt all over and experiencing for the first time something like need for oxygen. It almost got him scared. He shakily climbed out the pool, coughing, and got up to his feet.

"Well, hello there." A husky voice said and he couldn't decide whether to feel relieved or annoyed when seeing his busty stalker. "If that isn't my favorite hero?" Next to Matsumoto sat the small black-haired pest that had shot the photos on the yacht.

Throwing a look to the opposite building he got a wary feeling when he had no problem of seeing right into his still brightly lit living room.

"Yeah, you got that right! After I found out where you lived I moved here as soon as possible!"

Grimmjow felt creeped out by the behavior. Behind the small brunette the creepy husband emerged, looking puzzled by Grimmjow's appearance.

Next thing to worry about were his heavy legs. He tried, really tried to jump into the air like he was used to but his feet stayed glued to the ground.

"Care to do me a favor?" Grimmjow growled out when he turned to the three staring at him strangely.

* * *

After that certain morning and a short depressing phase of Ichigo he went back to work. Renji was worried about him but let it slip since he seemed to be physically fine, at least. He thought about cornering the bastard and squeezing him out like a lemon, but he feared the guy might run amok.

His constant thinking and sighing and being absent got to Stark nerves. Pushing his coffee cup away, said man stalked over to Renji's desk, leaning heavily onto it.

"You're not even reading the news paper."

Renji cocked a brow at that. Wasn't Stark the one that always complained that he read that thing too much? He shrugged his shoulder, feeling listless.

"Renji," Stark said slowly, "Read the goddamn paper."

On the cover, two people were hovering in the air in front of a burning building. One was carried bridal style, the other seemed to...fly. Renji furrowed his brows. The guy's hair seemed to be bright orange and the face...

* * *

The door to Renji's apartment went flying open.

Grimmjow and Kuchiki whirled around, eying the panting Renji surprised, who stared equally puzzled back.

"What the hell—"

"Who are—"

"Renji!"

"Rukia?"

Before either of them could go on, Grimmjow was on the redhead, pulling him by the collar and scowling deeply. "Where is the idiot?" He barked, his eyes blazing and his grip not half as hard as he was used to.

The punch hit him unexpected and so hard that it send him onto the floor.

Renji blinked surprised and felt some satisfaction seeing the bastard curled up on the floor nursing his reddened cheek and – ah, yes, that was blood – split lip.

"You fucking-"

"Grimmjow! Calm down!" Rukia shouted, jumping between the two men. "And Renji, we don't have time for this!"

"Oh really?" he growled out. "This is the first time since four years you managed to come face-to-face to me and you what? Bring an asshole over? How did you get in anyway?"

"Where is Kurosaki?" Grimmjow barked when he stood again.

"You make it so easy by forgetting to close your damn door!" she shouted back. "And I'm just helping a friend who saved my life!"

Renji snorted loudly. "That asshole is the last person who—"

"Where is Kurosaki?" Grimmjow repeated, his hand gripped Kuchiki's neck tightly and hold her there, his eyes darting between the two.

Renji would have continued to insult him if he hadn't been running to his apartment for the same reason. Pulling the news paper out of his backpack, he showed them the first page. "As impossible as it might sound..."

* * *

"You fucked him?"

The car swerved dangerously, making the one feminine occupant shriek loudly.

"Renji, goddamn! Get your eyes on the road again!"

Renji hated that he was driving that moment or he would have pounded that stupid face into a bloody pulp. After hearing about the bad state Grimmjow was in, he even would have success. He opted to grip the steering wheel tightly, releasing some frustration.

"It wasn't as if he was not willing," Grimmjow shot back until Kuchiki hit him full force with a brutal fist, making him cry out in pain and shut his mouth.

"Thanks, darling," Renji grinned at her, feeling better.

"I should hit you, too, but since you're driving it'll be bad."

Renji got to know that Grimmjow had currently suffered from a certain loss of certain powers. After a graceless fall into Matsumoto's pool, the blonde woman had asked Rukia to accompany the rouge man with his search after Kurosaki to find a clue if he was responsible for the sudden change in strength.

Well, the news paper's picture had told a whole new story.

"I have no idea how this is possible, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who is a bit worried. Hell knows what the kid is able to do when he really had achieved my abilities."

_True_, Renji thought.

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Stark said leaning into his chair. "Every time you use your power, you'll hair change. Considering that guy had orange hair – hideous color – it is possible, he got – however he managed that – your power."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "We were to that point already." You could see that Grimmjow hated where he was at that moment. Cornered into the tiny office of Renji and Stark, Grimmjow felt a strange sensation trickling down his neck and that wasn't because of the burning hot (and crappy tasting) coffee that made him feel his tongue getting on fire for the first time as well. (the Mister Officer had the balls to laugh about that)

Renji had successfully locked the door after ordering Rikichi to keep any unwanted guest out of their reach, introducing Grimmjow and Rukia to Stark shortly.

"I haven't seen Ichigo since three days because of his schedule. He had left a note saying he was going to his family for some time. The number written on the paper didn't get me anywhere."

"But how can we be sure that Ichigo is the one on the photo?"

It was something that bugged Renji, too.

"Because he was the last idiot I saw the last five days."

Rukia furrowed her brows at the harsh tone. "You're not angry about the coffee, are you?"

"Fuck the coffee," he shouted at her, "I want my strength back!"

A chuckled emerged from the corner of the room where Stark swayed in his chair back and forth. "It's strange for you being normal, vulnerable."

The muscle of Grimmjow's jaw clenched painfully. "Are you laughing?"

Stark leaned forward, laying his head on his folded hands. "You see, perhaps it is even a good thing that you are like this? You were the boon and bane of this city for years and the police wasn't the only force who suspected that you were the cause of the many accidents you were involved with."

The room grew awfully silent.

"If I were you I would do anything to get the kid back," Grimmjow said lowly, staring straight into Stark's eyes. "Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't. The kid is fucked up and with all the damage he had suffered he might go overboard with the new possibilities lying to his feet."

* * *

They didn't know where to start searching. Truth to be told, neither of them knew Ichigo well enough to know his hide-outs, his get-aways or his places where he could relax. Asking the post office he was working at was fruitless since he hadn't been there for a week. Renji frowned at that. What was the guy doing elsewhere?

Either they looked for an accident and hoped Kurosaki will come, or they set out a decoy. However, they weren't even hundred percent sure, that he was the right guy. (well, Grimmjow was, but the others had their own doubt)

So a week went by. And Grimmjow hated every second of it. Every once in a while he had walked in the streets as well, but now, he was forced to and that was ticking him off. The pollution of the air down there was terrible and he missed the better air in the upper levels of the city. The noise was getting on his nerves and when he had his first real meal, he almost vomited over the table because he ignored the fullness of his stomach and expanded it until it was close to exploding. He never felt worse.

His skin got overly sensitive, being black and blue after the second day of his torture (Renji: "You idiot, you're not immortal! Stop pulling this shit!"). Every hit or bump or whatever hurt. He felt completely weak.

Renji and Stark were just able to help after their shift or in between their patrols. Their chief almost got their heads because of them being busy with different things than he had order them to do.

Currently they were all leaning over the edge of one of the highest sky scrapers of the city. The night had come, making it hard to point something out in the sky beside the helicopter and the airplanes.

"That's bullshit, we're wasting time!" Grimmjow wasn't known for his patience and he was fussing over ten minutes by now, running the roof up and down.

"Can't someone get this guy to shut up?" Renji growled lowly, leaning back into the railing. "Still, I have to agree. We're not getting anywhere by staring at the sky."

Silence.

The other two were to his right, being left to their own thoughts. Their search in the city didn't get any piece of information but Kurosaki being...not there. It was frustrating. If he just had a weakness, something...

"What I always wanted to ask you, Grimmjow." Renji started, remembering his conversation with Ichigo about Grimmjow's Kryptonite, and looked to the...

Nobody?

"Grimmjow?"

He vanished?

* * *

He flew for 2.3 seconds until his back hit the concrete brutally, making him grunt and grimace in pain. He wondered for a moment about the amount of stars he was seeing until they vanished. Coughing, he got to his knees, feeling wobbly; his side hurt.

When Grimmjow finally looked up he gasped at seeing a certain orange head.

"I knew it was you," he grinned triumphantly and got up. His days of torture would be over soon.

Kurosaki wasn't even twitching. He was wearing a dark long coat that clung just a bit too tight around his waist.

Grimmjow laughed. "Nice costume, by the way. But you'll make a bad action figure." He was plastered against the next concrete wall within a second, his back cracked loudly and his head followed the example. Slipping to the ground, Grimmjow felt like his head would be splitting in two.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the wide room he was in until a hand grabbed his collar, pulling him upwards. "Do you feel it?" Kurosaki asked him in a quiet voice.

"What?" Grimmjow grinned despite the pain. "You're still a pussy or what do you mean?"

He was rewarded with a fist plunging deep into his gut. Falling to his knees, Grimmjow heaved once, twice and almost vomited all over the floor. "Shit," he whispered in a raspy voice, his vision blurring. "That was a bad move, Kurosaki." Funny how much pain a normal human suffered a day.

He twitched when a hand cupped his cheek, lifting his head rather roughly.

"Careful, you'll break my neck," Grimmjow hissed out, grimacing when the hand remained cupping his cheek.

"Can't control it yet," Kurosaki mumbled, looking him up and down. "Was it always like this for you?"

Grimmjow blinked and asked himself what the guy was referring to.

"Nothing. You feel nothing like this. No burn, no crash, no pain, nothing." Kurosaki's corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile. "You couldn't imagine something else. But for me, a week without it." He shuddered. "I can't describe it."

"Good," Grimmjow got out, trying to be careful. He didn't want to experience a rough Kurosaki again. But he wanted his life back, goddamnit! "Do you care to give those abilities back?"

Kurosaki smiled this time. "You don't get it, do you?" He gripped Grimmjow's arm and tightened his hold until Grimmjow thought it might snap in two. "Now, you feel pain." _No shit_, Grimmjow thought, wincing. "I wish you would remember it forever." Grimmjow would, when his arm would be ripped off any second. "I don't give a flying shit what you did to me. My life was always like this and it might never change, but I can't accept that you're getting others in trouble because of me and using their pain shamelessly to get money. That's, Grimmjow, really, that's pathetic."

Grimmjow's mouth turned into a snarl. "Stop being a do-gooder; you can't change me!"

When his brain recognized the pain he was already lying on the ground, cupping his own face and feeling a large amount of blood coming from the center of his face. Kurosaki had probably broken his nose. And it _hurt_.

"Trying to beat your opinion into my skull?" His voice sounded strange due to the deformed nose. Grimmjow looked up at Kurosaki who slowly walked up to him. Something irked him.

Grimmjow was scared.

Not overly, hyperventilating-ly, pants-shitting-ly scared, but...fuck, if Kurosaki didn't look frightening.

Grimmjow might later be mortified by his reaction but when Kurosaki crouched in front of him, he crawled backwards. He didn't get far as Kurosaki shot forward again, catching his arm and squeezing it again. _He's gonna break it_. "I wouldn't hinder you going on with your lifestyle, accidents are everywhere and inevitable; it's even good that you save people. But..." The arm tightened. "...not by using me and challenging my curse."

Kurosaki flew upwards, revealing the impressing height of the hall they were in and the fact, that Grimmjow soon would be flying down again, with the simple use of gravity.

"K-kurosaki? Hey, don't overestimate, you—"

The fall was short, the crack when hitting the ground loud. Grimmjow had hit his head on the concrete, making his temple bleed as well. White and black spots were covering his view. "Oh...fuck," he groaned, coughing and bathing in all the pain he was feeling.

Then he heard the annoying footsteps again, making him almost want to scream.

Kurosaki was crouching in front of him again, his hand drove into his black hair and pulled painfully on it. They stared at each other. Grimmjow's left eye was swelling, too, as was his whole body. Or so it felt. He had to be a really pathetic picture, with blood all over his face.

Kurosaki's hard, cold eyes melted. He closed them shortly until he shook his head. "Shit, I can't do this..." he whispered before he rubbed the dirt and blood from Grimmjow's mouth and pushed forward.

Grimmjow felt his own medicine firsthand. And it was drugging. When a tingling sensation hit the back of his head his eyes widened. That was it, wasn't it? That prickling feeling. Shit, that...

Kurosaki lifted his mouth again, examining Grimmjow's face. "You should start brushing your teeth," he laughed weakly and reached to his nose. Grimmjow hissed at the contact.

"Might hurt-"

Crack!

He screamed.

"H-hey, calm down! I just straightened it again!"

"By ripping it off?" Grimmjow was cut off by Kurosaki's mouth again. He resigned and shared his breath and felt the pain lessen. So he really had had healing breath? He had been really great, hadn't he?

"Do me a favor when this whole mess is back to normal," Kurosaki whispered in his ear, curling his hand around his neck.

Grimmjow kept silent, waiting for the request.

"Do it however you like, but kill me please."

The hall echoed the words, once, twice.

Grimmjow chuckled. "You're really desperate to die, aren't you?" His vision blackened.

With his conscious coming back, so was the pain in his head. So, his powers were still a problem? He was cold. Peering an eye open he just saw Kurosaki's chin, then the wide black sky behind his head.

"Cold," he hissed when the wind picked up.

"We'll be there soon," the other man promised.

"Hope so," Grimmjow pulled his arms around himself and tried not to think in what kind of embarrassing position he was in. Fuck, don't even dare to think of it! "You figured out flying quite fast, didn't you?"

"It came as naturally as breathing, after I discovered that my accidents didn't hurt anymore." Kurosaki slowed down, obviously going down. "I'll miss that."

Grimmjow didn't need to ask that he was talking about the pain.

Once he felt a mattress hit his back, Grimmjow ripped his eyes open again. Kurosaki hovered over him, his face looking quite serious there. The hand on his tight made him nervous.

"Yeah?" he asked and tried to sound braver than he felt.

"Hope you don't mind," was the last sentence Grimmjow heard when Kurosaki started kissing him. The fuck! His eyes went as big as saucers as a sneaky tongue fought its way inside. He tried to shout at him, punch him, bite this wet thing off but he was defenseless. His trashing got more wild when Kurosaki pulled his trousers down, his shirt—

* * *

He had been awake for a long time. Since he felt squishy at places you shouldn't feel squishy he had to believe that last night's activities had been more real than he was comfortable with.

What made him blink in wonder was...the pain. Or better: the not pain. Yeah, there was this throbbing in his temple but it rather felt as if he was nursing a slight hangover than anything else.

He had felt Kurosaki sitting naked beside him since he had opened his eyes, but he didn't dare to look over to him. His strength was back. No question. His body felt wholly different than the previous week, he smelt better, saw everything better, and this tingle down his back.

He was Grimmjow Jaegerjaque again.

His blue eyes traveled for the first time to Kurosaki. The guy hadn't moved an inch for...an hour? Maybe two.

The exposed back...looked horrible. There were scars covering scars. Burns, scratches, cuts, a small dent by his ribcage. Some disgusting asshole had begun to cut a word into his skin, but there were missing too many lines to read it properly. The arm closest to him had a small dent, too. It looked like someone had ripped off a piece of flesh (a dog?). Different black and blue marks were coloring the whole mess. The sunlight coming through the window made everything worse, shadows underlining the risen skin of the scars.

Grimmjow looked to the ceiling again.

Had he really seen that?

He looked to Kurosaki again.

Still horrible.

He pulled his lips together. Think about it, what must Kurosaki have been through to get such a disgusting collection of scars? He shuddered a bit.

He didn't know why he did it but he wanted to feel those. (are they even real?) So he placed a hand flat onto the middle of Kurosaki's back. A jerk went through the other's body until a small shaking remained. He cringed. He felt every bump, every mark, every still crusted and healing bruise. He would have smiled if he could, when he saw parallel scratch marks on either side of his back – the newest bruises.

Don't think about it how they get there... Grimmjow heated up.

A sob.

Kurosaki had his head on his knees, embracing everything with his arms as if trying to hide from the world.

In one of his rare moments, Grimmjow felt...a tug? A push? Something, anything. He leaned up, reached forward and pushed himself against the quivering back, placing his arms around the other (he hiccuped, trying to keep his sobs down). He kissed the small freckles on his shoulder in between all those marks – god, he never had been this disgustingly gentle before in his life.

"Shut up," Grimmjow said quietly, leaning his forehead onto the other's shoulder.

* * *

When Renji saw him, his mouth fell open.

"Hey, Ichigo," he started hesitantly, rubbing his neck. "New hairstyle?"

It was strange but the orange hair stayed. It faded a bit and was less bright than before, but still, orange. Ichigo blushed. "Shut up," he said weakly.

"It matches your freckles."

Ichigo didn't know whether he should be furious or totally embarrassed.

"How's the bastard?"

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders. Behind Renji, Matsumoto, her husband, Kuchiki and an officer he didn't know were watching him. "Flying around, I guess. And eating till he's falling into a coma." A small pause. "Sorry, got you worried again, didn't I?"

Renji patted his shoulder. And smiled.

* * *

Some days later Ichgio surprised him when he announced he was moving out. (not that he had really moved in to begin with...)

"You're not going back to—"

"No, no," Ichigo assured him, "Luckily, I've got a friend who—"

"Ooooh no," Renji said lowly, "You're not really going to that..!"

Pushing his hand to Renji's mouth, Ichigo smiled at him. "Trust me."

What choice did he have?

* * *

"Okay, we can try that again."

Grimmjow blinked at him, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure, and suddenly in the middle of it you notice it is too much without _me_ noticing."

Punching his arm lightly (for his own safety, not Grimmjow's), Ichigo glared at him. "I'm sure you'll notice the difference between _'Aaah, I'm coming_!' or _'AAH! You broke my spine!_'."

"Don't say, I haven't warned you afterwards..."

To get one thing clear: Grimmjow was still an asshole. A disgusting asshole at that. He still observed accidents and got his money out of saving the victims. He didn't use Ichigo for that anymore. And that was it.

Ichigo didn't try and change Grimmjow. As he had told Renji once, he thought it was good that he was an asshole – nevertheless he was glad that his _absolutely bad_ attitude became _just bad_, with a _tiny little hint_ of nice whenever Ichigo was with him alone (stress on _alone_).

Back to the plot:

"AAAAH!"

"..ah, shit, Ichi, what kind of—"


	4. 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I don't get any money.

* * *

Life's a piece of shit when you look at it.

Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.

You'll see it's all a show, keep'em laughing as you go,

just remember that the last laugh is on you.

And always look on the bright side of life.

Always look on the bright side of life.

* * *

Renji squeezed the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. "He broke your pelvis," he said monotonously, as if he had guessed it would happen sooner or later. Probably not this soon though.

Ichigo sat between crisp white bed sheets and scowled heavily. "Don't start." He crossed his arms defensively.

"You idiot, he fucking broke your—"

"I know," he hissed. " I've _noticed_, believe me!"

"Your sarcasm isn't getting you anywhere!" At least not for the next weeks. Slumping down in a chair next to the hospital bed, Renji rubbed a hand tiredly over his face and gave Ichigo a scolding glare. "And what now?"

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders. Everything he was able to do was sitting back semi upright (Fowler's position – Ichigo had asked), chatting with the nurses and watching TV.

Currently, the evening news was on, displaying – among other things – Grimmjow. The newscaster wasn't even shy using rather strong language to describe his heroic deeds. And the sums he had asked for. Ichigo almost felt embarrassed for Grimmjow, as if he was responsible for his attics. He sighed.

"He still is a real asshole."

Ichigo looked up to Renji scowling at the TV-screen. He couldn't even deny that.

"You've lived with him how long? Three weeks? Four?" He huffed loudly. "I had hoped you might have changed him a little bit after this stunt of yours-" Although still nobody figured out, how or why it had happened in the first place. "-but obviously not. An uncaring asshole as ever. And I dare you to make any excuses. There aren't many ways to break your pelvis without any other very visible injury." Renji shuddered at the image he had in his mind, fueled further by the faint embarrassed blush covering the other's neck.

"Renji, just-"

"Oh no, I won't. Nobody knows what might happen the next time. More cracked bones? Or do you want him to paralyze you down from the waist? You think he might give a fuck?" Renji's nostrils flared, obviously caught up in his own horror scenario. "Have you seen what he did to people? Have noticed what he did to you? It takes more than a little beating to get even a tiny bit through his pig head. He-"

When the breeze from the opened window picked up, Renji stopped. In fact, when the redhead turned abruptly to his left, he saw the famous blue haired devil flying in front of the window, looking somehow irritated, bored and maniacal all the same.

Clamping his mouth shut, Renji's glare intensified as the bastard flew through the window, landing with a tap on the floor. When his gaze shifted back to Ichigo he couldn't believe that the kid gave the newcomer a small smile, something akin to _joy_ flushing over his face.

"I gave the sick note to the office." Grimmjow didn't even greet Ichigo, but Renji was baffled hearing that Grimmjow actually did someone a favor.

"Thanks a lot." Ichigo reached for the bottle of water on the night stand and tried to look causally while taking a sip.

"Oh, and they gave me this letter for you." By the confused look Grimmjow just shrugged his shoulders and handed him the envelope. Without any other word, he turned and jumped back outside, his outline vanishing in the red light of the evening.

Upon opening the letter, Ichigo's face turned blank.

"I'm fired."

Renji waited for any other reaction, but Ichigo just folded the paper and put it back into the envelope. That was it.

"Are you happy now?" he asked harsher than he intended to. "Thanks to the bastard you lost your job. How often did you have to send in a sick note because he mauled you for one reason or another? Wake up, goddamnit!"

"Don't you have a job to do, too?" Brown eyes were alit with repressed anger. "I never asked for a fucking babysitter! I don't need you to fuss over me out of pity. You said you won't give me any sympathy, then stop it. Get the fuck off my back already!"

In-your-face. Renji felt as if he was slapped. Then he got angry. "You know what your problem is? Either you're a fucked up masochist or just simply fucked up. You treat people who actually care for you like trash, and you turn to the worst kind of people who don't give a flying fuck if you kick the bucket. Can't you see what the bastard did to you? Where the fuck is the fire that was there some months before? You were always in trouble and bruised from head to toe but you were alive and kicking! Now look at you! You've become a wimp, dependent on the worst bastard in all over the city." Renji stood abruptly, clenching his fists by his side. He actually considered punching the boy in the face but it wouldn't bring the satisfaction he was looking for; so he restrained himself from doing so. "Don't expect anything from me anymore. I thought we became something like friends."

When the door was slammed and Ichigo heard a nurse fussing over the police officer to be quiet in the corridor, he was left alone. With a numb feeling he looked to the bedside table and his throat went dry when he saw how empty it was. He had been in the hospital for four days as Renji had rushed in on the first notice that Ichigo was hospitalize. He – obviously – had feared the worst. In hindsight, Renji seemed to have noticed his bare table as well. There hadn't been anybody who would visit him and bring flowers.

It took a little over another three weeks until Ichigo was free to walk around – after a long and tiresome physiotherapy. His first walk lead him to his former working place in the middle of the city. He looked almost ruefully to the big gray building of the main post office. Regret washed over him the second he saw his unused working bike chained to a pole in the corner of the backyard. How many times did he have to bring it in a workshop, since he totally crashed it with a stunt of his? Actually, Ichigo had wondered since several months, why his chef hadn't thrown him out long ago. Maybe it was pity that had greeted him whenever he saw the tall man in the hallway.

* * *

Grimmjow's apartment was open upon entering. Ichigo put the box with his very few belongings onto the floor of the small entrance hall and made his way into the living room.

Grimmjow stood with a bare torso and clad boxer shorts in front of the television, sipping onto a beer while watching the news. He barely spared the redhead a glance and a grunt as acknowledgment before turning back to the weather broadcast who was promising storms and heavy rainfalls the next days.

Ichigo choked on his greeting when he chanced a small glance into the wide open bedroom. Something curvy was lying motionless under the crumbled sheets; a foot with purple nail paint was hanging over the edge of the bed.

Keeping himself upright despite the light feeling in the back of his head, Ichigo cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You..." he started unsure. "You have a guest?" He felt stupid, stating the obvious.

Grimmjow grunted again, slurped down the last drop of his beer and threw the crushed beer can over his shoulder, hitting the trash bin almost perfectly.

"She was offering."

Ichigo remembered the last report of his hero-playing, the image of the blue haired hated hero flying away with a woman in his arms still vivid in his mind.

"Is she alright...?"

Cold blue eyes bore into him and Ichigo was glad for the first time, that Grimmjow didn't possess any threatening weapons within his eyes. "Sure," he snarled. "She isn't a wimp like you."

Ichigo wondered whether Grimmjow did this on purpose or was just his usual asshole-self.

"And next time, keep your fucking dog at bay. He's getting on my nerves." Grimmjow strolled in the middle of the room and grabbed a package of cigarettes lying on the low couch table.

"...who?" Ichigo asked hesitantly.

"Your frickin' cop-friend. Fuck, bugged the hell outa me!"

Ichigo's mouth went dry and he felt even worse after the last words he had exchanged with Renji. And after all, he still stood up for him?

When the strong smell of tobacco invaded his nostrils, Ichigo jerked out of his thoughts. His head snapped up and he stared into Grimmjow's face that hovered closely above the redhead. A cigarette was dangling between his lips and with every exhale of his breath white-blue smoke came out.

"What is it with you...?" he asked in a tone as if he wasn't aware he said it out loud. His brows drew together, he grabbed Ichigo roughly by his chin and held him still while observing. As no real answer seemed to be found in his freckled face, Grimmjow clenched his teeth, snapping the stump of the cigarette unknowingly in two. "You little piece of..." Abruptly, Grimmjow shoved him a meter away, threw one last disgusted glance into the direction of the bedroom and stomped off to the wide terrace.

Ichigo had no idea what had went into him. If Ichigo didn't know any different, he would say Grimmjow was distressed with something.

"So, you're his little roomie?"

Ichigo almost jumped out of his skin when a sultry voice breathed into his ear. It was the woman who belonged to the feet with the purple nail paint. She was – due to the lack of any other word – hot. Curvy, dark skinned, gorgeous eyes. And stark naked.

With a rather unmanly shriek he whirled around, covering his eyes. "Get dressed!" he all but shouted. He heard her chuckling retreating back into the bedroom.

"And a shy roomie at that. How unexpected!"

The next time he dared to turn around, she was...somehow dressed. Ichigo wondered whether Grimmjow picked her right at a certain corner of a street.

"Now come again: how did someone like you end up with someone like him?" She pointed bluntly to the still smoking (and obviously still brooding) Grimmjow on the terrace.

Ichigo gave a small crooked smile. "Fate?"

She barked a hearty laugh. "Fate you say? Now that's a new one!" Despite her loud answer she did not fail to notice his almost lost expression when he chanced a glance to the blue devil. "Then fate be it," she huffed.

"And," Ichigo cleared his throat. "How did you two come together?"

She smirked, pushing back a strand of her long dark hair. "I'd love to call it fate as well, but it was more..accidently that we've met."

Figures, Ichigo sighed inwardly and opened his mouth to voice another question, when Grimmjow beat him to it.

"20-questions is over. Get out."

Surprisingly, it wasn't directed to Ichigo, but the female guest. She looked at least as surprised as Ichigo felt.

"What? That's not very nice." she pouted, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

"I've never been known for being nice." Grimmjow looked even more unfriendly as usual when saying that.

With an obvious sway in her hips, she stalked towards Grimmjow. "What about my good-by-kiss?"

A blue brow twitched. "You'll get a good-by-kick-in-the-ass if you're not out in ten seconds."

"What about the kid?"

"He's part of the furniture."

Despite his serious thread (Ichigo had no doubt he would pull through it – he had done worse to comply that), she smiled widely and pulling out a small white card from between her breasts. "Then give me a call, will ya?" She boldly grabbed the elastic band of his boxers and pushed the card between his skin and the material, letting the band snap back. She then turned towards Ichigo, grabbed his hand in a rather manly strong hand shake, winked once and vanished behind the entrance door.

"I don't have a phone, dumb chick." Fishing the paper out of his underwear and crumbling it afterwards, Grimmjow tossed it backward, perfectly into the bin.

Relief flickered briefly in the back of Ichigo's mind as Grimmjow usual attics and a small smirk (or smile, depending on the position looking at him) grew on his face, which fell quickly when Grimmjow addressed him.

"And you, get in the bathroom, you stink."

Actually, Ichigo had made sure to shower twice before leaving the hospital and he didn't know if he felt offended that Grimmjow claimed he was stinky despite smoking himself like a bonfire.

"And hurry up, 'm horny."

All color drained from the redhead's face at the prospect of a romp in his current condition. He was about to voice his worry, but Grimmjow cut him off.

"Don't look like a kicked puppy, I'll be fuckin' gentle, okay?"

Didn't improve the situation. The last 'gentle' concluded into a four-week clinical pit stop. Even though Grimmjow ensured the financial backing (considering he was the cause of the whole mess), Ichigo wasn't really fond of the idea of going straight back there first thing in the next morning.

His face must have shown his discomfort as Grimmjow all but growled at him. "Get into the frickin' shower, wimp."

After a numb third shower that day, Ichigo stalked back into the bedroom where a pile of soaked bed sheets decorated one corner. His hip burned at the memory of his injury the moment he sank face forward and naked next to Grimmjow into the new sheets, waiting patiently.

After a minute or two, Grimmjow breathed into his ear. "If you're so afraid of me, why bothering coming always back again?"

Ichigo honestly didn't know.

But when those strong and often so brutal arms embraced him from behind without any sexual implication, he wondered whether it was for moments like this one?

* * *

Renji's doorbell rang on his only free day in the week. His brows shot up to his hairline upon finding Ichigo on his doorstep, holding out a small carton of confection from the pastry shop two blocks down his apartment.

Without any greeting, Renji pulled the other redhead inside and inspected instantly his plastered hands and fingers.

"I actually finished the dessert, but Grimmjow found it before I had the chance to come here." That explained the cuts despite the bought sweets.

"Coffee or tea?"

Ichigo looked dumbfounded for a moment before he smiled guiltily at the other. "Tea," he said and wondered – with Renji so gruff but still so forgiving and caring – why he didn't fell for the officer instead...

Equipped with a steaming mug, Ichigo warmed his cold hands on the cup.

"How's your hip? Everything's fine again?" Renji just finished his second piece of pastry, leaning back into the couch. "I hope the bastard kept his genitals within the confine of his pants," he added warningly. "Once hospital in a month should be enough, shouldn't it?"

Heat colored Ichigo's neck and ears red. Whether out of embarrassment about speaking of sex with his friend or Renji's lack of expectations for any apology (or the need of thereof), Ichigo didn't know.

"Fine," he murmured absently as he remembered the day he came back from the hospital. He could chalk it up with Grimmjow being incredulously blunt and uncaring of how he acted or was noticed by others, so that he was able to switch from an utterly asshole to a still new strange more – dare he say – softer side (well, as soft as a piece of hard rock can get). Even now, half a week later, Ichigo struggled with what happened that day – or better: what didn't happen. After all, like Renji put it: Grimmjow's genitals had stayed where they were. "It's fine, you don't have to worry." He tried a smile that looked not really successful considering the once more prominent scowl adorning his face.

There was a certain line between Renji's eyes that was still tense when looking him up and down. "What about the job you've lost?"

Ichigo cringed at the sore theme and glared at his cup of tea. "Well..."

Some pamphlets and brochures landed on the couch table before Ichigo could form any excuse.

"Look those through. They should give you enough first information. After that, visit the job center downtown." Renji pulled out one flyer. "Here are the opening hours and a map."

Ichigo didn't know what to say.

"Say: 'Thank you, Renji, my uttermost knight in shining armor. Take this pastry as a sign of my gratitude!' " With grace he grabbed a new pastry and gulped it down in one go. "You're welcome Ichigo! These are delicious! You can bring them more often!"

It took surprisingly much willpower to comprehend and suppress the urge to throw himself at the redhead and hug him. Ichigo settle for smile instead, without the scowl.

* * *

Grimmjow made his way down the street to the next supermarket. He ran out of food again, now with two people in his flat again. Not that Ichigo was eating much in the first place, but the constant urge to stop himself just to take what lies there next to him at night made him incredibly hungry. He would soon ban the kid to the couch again. At least when Ichigo stopped limping wherever he went.

And since he run out of money as well, he went into the next bank. Upon entering the small branch bank, he sighed deeply when two guns were aimed at him.

"Don't move," one masked man shouted at him.

Grimmjow pulled a bored face, shook his head and despite the five frightened people crouching in a corner, turned on his heel. He was in no mood for this.

"H-hey! Stop or I'll—"

Three shots later Grimmjow was still walking, turned left and vanished out of their view.

The money he had would be enough for that day, he didn't need unwanted attention. Again.

But fate wasn't his friend that day when an oh-so-familiar voice called after him, three blocks later.

"Grimmy!"

He sighed. Just his day.

Matsumoto linked arms with him, making his scowl deepen. "And how are my two favorite boys?"

He considered telling her he almost paralyzed the redhead, but she wouldn't find it as funny as he had. So he stayed vague. "One is with his backside on fire and the other is annoyed as hell."

Matsumoto got the nerve to giggle. "I've got another invitation! Kurosaki can come, too!"

"I doubt he want to..."

* * *

"No."

A sigh. "She asked for you."

"Grimm, no."

"There is food."

"You're only thinking about the one thing."

"Be lucky it isn't the other."

"Grimmjow, I don't want it to end like last time."

"Everyone was safe while you drowned in the sea."

A sigh from the other side. "You know what I mean."

"Why do I try to convince you...?" Grimmjow asked himself. Wait: (Matsumoto: "You get a bonus if you coax him out!") that's why.

* * *

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." Grimmjow put his hands in his pockets. It was a week later and both men were standing in the entrance to an exclusive, but for the upper society decent room. Various styled people littered every corner, a small band played on a small stage, the decoration was flashy but not eye-hurtingly so. The spacious windows showed a spectacular view of the city at night. Considering they were in one or another of the freakingly tall skyscrapers, one had to expect such a view.

"Besides, I want to be here as much as you do."

Ichigo stared at him. "Then why are we here?"

Shrugging his shoulder, Grimmjow shoved him almost playfully. "What can I say? Food? Money? Doing a friend a favor?"

"You made the last one up, didn't you?"

Ichigo was surprised to see Renji in the small crowd. He looked a bit out of place with his tattooed face and he was red around his cheekbones (probably not because of the alcohol). The party was as small as the one on the yacht, somehow familiar faces were everywhere and the buffet look as delicious as ever.

The young Kuchiki was the one that approached him early that evening, pulling him aside.

"I heard what happened," she said quietly, "Last month when you vanished. Between you and...Grimmjow." She shied her eyes away, blushing lightly. "How was it?"

Ichigo spluttered terribly, trying to figure out whether he needed a hole to swallow him or not. Grimmjow would kill him if any of their more intimate activities (especially the one time with the superman on the receiving end) got out. He all but squeaked: "Excuse me?"

Kuchiki gazed up to him, her look dreamily and in awe. "How was it to fly like a bird in the sky?"

Stopping for a moment, the shock was covered by a small smile. He still felt the butterflies in his stomach, the wind over his skin, the freedom. It was... "Indescribable."

He left it at that and – when the young Kuchiki vanished satisfied – hided near the panorama window, taking small gulps of a beer. Even though Matsumoto greeted him with hugs and kisses and assured him how welcome he was, he felt...bad. Bad in bad feeling that something might happen. They were still in the middle of the city in one of the highest floors of a skyscraper. If something happened, the damage would be worse.

His eyes wandered to Grimmjow, who looked decent even while devouring almost every plate of the buffet. Obviously the only reason why he took up Matsumoto's offer. But getting down something to calm his nervous stomach sounded good.

The first plate he took cracked instantly in the middle and decorated the red plush carpet. Ichigo groaned. Maybe he should stop trying.

Upon picking up the pieces – trying not to cut himself – he noted even over the song of the band a strange sound. Investigating further, he pushed the long table cloth up and peered under the table.

His heart stopped when he spotted a small red blinking light in one corner of the underside of the table. Here he was, crouching with his upper body covered under the buffet, regretting every second he was within seeing distance to the blond actress.

"I doubt that is comfortable," Grimmjow's voice drowned from above him. Pushing the table cloth away Ichigo stared at him with big terrified eyes. Grimmjow crouched next to him and peered in the direction Ichigo had previously looked.

He clicked his tongue. "A bomb, how classy."

Ichigo wanted to scream. "Shit, what are we gonna do?" he whispered slightly hysterically.

Shrugging his shoulders, Grimmjow bent forward and unceremoniously ripped the red blinking thing from the table. In the dimmed lights of the room Grimmjow held it up and inspected it – with the size as small as his palm, the faint smell of explosive filled his nostrils – and came shortly to the conclusion, that it was quite real.

Unfortunately, the woman next to him came to the same conclusion and within three seconds, she shouted the whole area down. Men and woman alike stopped everything they were doing and stared at the spectators.

"Bomb", Grimmjow declared loudly and didn't even try to hide the small device. He rolled his eyes when half the occupants of the party – after a small shocked silence - stormed to the emergency exits, panic filled the whole room.

Ichigo had the fleeting thought to scold Grimmjow for even making the situation worse than it already was, but was distracted by the frantic peeping thing, that – frighteningly – became faster every second.

Grimmjow swept his eyes over the crowd, out the window. Evacuating the people took too much time, pointless; throwing the thing out would probably hit something else instead and if he just flew away with-

The device changed its sound to an eerily long shriek and without any more consideration, Grimmjow shoved it down his throat.

Ichigo's eyes grew incredibly wide. "Grimm...?"

Said man screwed his eyes close, pinched his nose and covered his mouth, bowing forward.

Ichigo wanted to touch him, feared that any moment –

Then the explosion inside wracked his body, the sound like a firecracker being thrown into a gully. His body jerked heavily and Grimmjow's face went beet red, sweat covered his whole frame.

When the first wave ebbed down, Ichigo dragged him down to the floor and shook him. "Grimmjow?"

He had yet to uncover his face and when he did he fell forward, heaved deeply and puked all over the red plush carpet.

Matsumoto stumbled towards them, went to Grimmjow's other side and supported the still heaving man.

"Someone get an ambulance!" She yelled loudly, her blue eyes wide and her hands shaking. "And get the frickin police!"

Renji came rushing over, pulled out his phone and made the first calls. "Everyone move out and into the foyer! Wait for the officers there!" Nobody said it out loud, but the possibility that another device was hidden somewhere made everyone scramble and hurry down.

"Grimmjow? Can you hear me?" Ichigo clutched Grimmjow's jacket, afraid of letting go.

"Too loud and clearly," he all but grumbled back and spit out the last remains of vomit. His sounded hoarse and the sweat covering his whole frame betrayed his careless attitude.

"Shit, we need to get him a doctor-"

"No," Grimmjow coughed. "No," this time more fiercely. "Those guys know shit, just-" he pulled himself up, Ichigo to his left, Matsumoto to his right. "Just get me home."

* * *

Ichigo would have laughed when he thought about Grimmjow's ass being one fire, but he couldn't find the humor in it. After they got home, Grimmjow's other opening was misused as an emergency exit as well that lead to things that shouldn't be described here. Since then he was lying in bed groaning and being miserable. Still, that was an extremely good condition, considering that the retard had swallowed a bomb.

"I made you a tea," Ichigo whispered when sitting on the edge of the bed with a trail in his hand.

"And you send me to an aroma therapy as well or what?" Grimmjow's eyes were reddened from all the vomiting. "Ugh..." he paled. "It's coming again."

While holding the bucket up dutifully, Ichigo thought that this would be a long night when everything Grimmjow ate that evening would get out this way.

* * *

The doorbell rang. Grimmjow frowned. That damn thing never rang. He peered one eye open and scowled when he saw Mister Officer coming inside his bedroom. Inside his bedroom.

"Ichigo!" he growled loudly. "What is the goddamn cop doing in my home!"

"He has news," came the reply from the kitchen.

"What news!" he shouted back.

"Grimm, ask him! He's standing in front of you!"

Renji sighed. Good start.

"Speak or go!"

Really good start.

Nevertheless Renji explained dutifully the progress of the investigation. They had even analyzed the broken pieces of the bomb hidden between half-digested food (Grimmjow had roared with laughter hearing that just before he was heaving again...).

Coming to a more uncomfortable topic, Renji cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose, you still remember the incident with Matsumoto and the roof."

"Where she showed her acting-skills and almost killed herself?"

"Ah, yes, that one. I'm not sure how much you were interested in it, after your official part in it, but it was supposed to be some sort of...plot. I have no idea what they intended in the first place, considering you've blown their plan anyhow. On the other hand, what came out of it was that Matsumoto took the whole thing to court. Obviously there were some major slips in the securities and weren't you half as nice back then that would have been her last role to play. Thanks again for that."

Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow, just half interested where this might lead.

"She won the process. The defendant wasn't very pleased with that."

"So he wants to get rid of her?"

"Possible." Renji looked at him. "Or he tries to continue what he started and wants to get rid of you instead."

By sunset Grimmjow was his usual asshole-self again. With his stomach empty he was more than willing to fill it to the brim. (during that process he emptied the fridge instead) Ichigo feared the procedure of last night would continue, but Grimmjow seemed to be more intractable than he had thought.

Around midnight Grimmjow went to bed.

Ichigo dared to give him a good-night kiss and crawled into his bed on the couch. His injuries didn't hurt anymore after all the resting and to not encourage Grimmjow anymore, he left willingly the bed to spare his behind for the time being. He practically felt the tension the last week and half and wasn't yet ready to try testing his limits again. Even though Grimmjow might have crossed the line the last time, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't do it again Accidently.

Ichigo cringed.

Beside being a good bedmate, what else had he to offer Grimmjow now...?

Ichigo curled up further under his blanket.

Not much, he concluded.

* * *

Finishing the last buttons of his dress shirt, Ichigo exited the bathroom. His hair was tamed and the bruises in his face were covered with a little help of make-up. He ignored Grimmjow's questioning stare.

"Why're you still here?"

It was eight in the morning and with Ichigo's former working schedule he would have been three hours late already. Considering he still had that job to begin with. Ichigo shrugged his coat on and buttoned it as well. It was almost winter and he hated the cold. "Got fired," he said in an even voice.

"What's the shirt for then?"

"I found a new job, hopefully. The guys from job center helped me to the interview I am going to now."

Grimmjow furrowed his brows. "And what are you gonna do?"

* * *

"Welcome," a woman with a timid voice said, smiling at Ichigo lightly. "You must be Kurosaki Ichigo." They shook hands. "Hinamori Momo," she introduced herself and led him to the elevator.

With the girl talking about the main service of the company all the way up, Ichigo stood in his corner, feeling his gut flutter. He hated elevators for a reason and he was exited. The bad kind of exited.

The ride ended in the fortieth floor or so and when the assistant led him to huge, impressing double doors, Ichigo would not have guessed what he was about to see.

A wide smiling blond man sat in a chair that was probably too big for his frame, and stood as soon as Ichigo stepped inside.

"Kurosaki! There you are!" he said happily, walking up to him with long strides. Ichigo never knew that someone could be so happy to see a mere guy looking for a job. The man eyed him up and down with this knowing smirk, patting his shoulder to finish his examination. "You're exactly the man I need!"

"W-well, good to hear that," Ichigo got out. What had they said at the job center? An easy office job, steady payment, 9 to 5, boring; exactly what he needed (no sarcasm included).

"Please, don't feel offended but you have to do me a big favor!"

Cold metal pushed against his temple, making Ichigo gulp. A creepy voice whispered in his ear that he "should better keep that little ass still, or my finger might slip." A black clad man with a gun stood grinning beside him.

"Please, be a nice hostage."

Ichigo was shell-shocked. Several other men appeared from the shadows of the spacious room, all lined up on the wall next to the double doors. Okay, being taken as a hostage was new for him. He had many ridiculous things survived and lived through; he asked himself how he would be doing now...

Shit. He hated his life.

"Since you're so close with our Blue Bird, would you mind giving us a telephone number so we can tell him that we like to meet him?"

Ichigo needed a moment to find his voice. "He doesn't have a telephone."

The blonde looked at him, laughed a bit, opened a fan and waved with it in front of his own face. "That was good, Kurosaki. Now please hand out the number."

Ichigo got annoyed. "If he doesn't have a telephone why should he have a number for it?"

Seemed to be the wrong thing to say since the metal of the gun started pressing more firmly against his head.

"He doesn't have a phone!" Ichigo said almost desperately.

This time the man seemed to believe him. "Well, that's bad. And complicated."

"We could send him a letter," one of the other black clad guys to Ichigo's left suggested.

"Good idea."

"He doesn't check his post box."

"You're no fun, you know that?" The blonde looked to his minions. "Any ideas?"

"Video message?" one said.

Humming. "No, that is too cliché already."

Another man ripped his arm in the air. "E-mail!"

"Good!"

Ichigo sighed. "No computer."

"Say, is Blue Bird retarded or what?"

* * *

Grimmjow was far from retarded. Especially when he tried to relax on his couch and was disturbed by the successful smashing of his terrace door. His eyes promised death when he eyed a small device that came flying through his windows and was now lying on the floor of his living room. The hand that formerly held the remote crushed it as soon as he stood and stomped to the blinking thing.

Smell and design was all too familiar and he just heard a small mechanic message being played.

"_Hello Mr. Blue Bird. I'm quite a big fan of your heroic deeds and would love to meet you in person, if that's okay for you and your busy schedule. Maybe I can bribe you to come here with a little lovely redhead who would _die _to see you come within the next two hours. So if you want him back as alive and kicking as he is know—_" an address followed before the device gave out a shrill shriek so that he barely had time to kick it out of the window before it exploded with an ear shattering boom and the clatter of broken glass.

When the rubble and dust settle enough to see, the blue of his eyes went deeper with every ticking second. The damage to his property was limited to the large French windows that were shatter into oblivion, but it was enough to get his own inner bomb exploding, jumping out of his house and with his fury packed up he flew to his destination.

* * *

Ichigo would have sighed if he wasn't gagged already. His hands were tightly bound to his back and – to make his curse come into action – one of the black guards accidently shot his right foot. Accidently with a gun on safety. He would have laughed if it didn't hurt like a bitch. The wound bleed through his shoe and he felt dizzy but nobody seemed to see it necessary to look after the injury.

Urahara – so he had heard the guards calling the blond – sat draped over his chair, looking bored. "Blue Bird isn't really fast, is he?"

_I doubt he'll come anyway_, Ichigo thought in resignation.

Just then, the double doors opened again, revealing Hinamori from before. "This way, Sir."

Ichigo's eyes widened when he saw blue hair and a grumpy face. Grimmjow barely honored him with a glance and went up to the table. The guards were pointing their guns at him, at least two were securing Ichigo, daring him to do anything stupid.

"Welcome!" Urahara said happily, the same way he had said it to Ichigo. "You must be Mister...Mister..."

Grimmjow stayed silent.

"Well, I didn't catch your name or are you fine with being called Blue Bird?"

Grimmjow sighed and rolled his eyes. Ignoring everything around him he walked up to the large window side of the room, looking down. "Impressive view," he murmured bored, knocking once at the glass.

"Yeah, it is, isn't it? We actually took—"

A loud smash filled the area and the wind picked up. Several clicks of the gun signaled that the security lock of every gun was loose.

Grimmjow observed his hand that had smashed the wide window pane, seeming satisfied that the broken pieces didn't have left a scratch.

"So..." he drawled on, took several steps back until he vanished in a blur.

Nobody saw the movement, but when Urahara was dangling outside the window, only held up by an arm that belonged to Grimmjow, the guards got into motion.

"Stop right there! We'll have your little friend here."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes again. "And I have your boss." Boredom was all over him. He turned to the struggling Urahara again, squeezing teasingly his throat. "Okay, listen little man," he said with venom in his voice. "I don't care what kind of guy, girl, wimp or whatever you have taken hostage. Kill him for all I care. But if a fucktard like you think I am so easily blackmailed, keep in mind," he pulled Urahara nearer to his face, his blazing blue eyes would have burst the blonde's head away. "Keep in mind that whenever you try and pull such a pathetic stunt again, you, your guys, the whole building can kiss their asses good bye." With a flick of his wrist Grimmjow send the man flying over his desk into the row of stunned men. Two men, brave enough to shot towards him and fire a salve, were met by two brutal hands crumbling their guns and sending them straight through the concrete wall. To let a small part of his destructive desire show, he threw the hardwood desk right after those and punched a hole in the ground so big, a car would fit through.

Brushing off the dust from his fingers, Grimmjow jumped out of the broken window.

Ichigo felt his legs shake. He looked to Urahara picking himself up from the floor with a groan, then to the two motionless guards lying in a rubble of concrete and former wall.

"Well, that was unexpected." he said, laughing lightly.

"Boss," the gun pressed into Ichigo's side. "What are we gonna do with him?"

Urahara sighed heavily. He felt disappointed and frustrated with Grimmjow's reaction. "Get those two in the basement for medical treatment, and fast, please." He tapped back to his desk – or where it used to be – straightened the position of the two guest chairs and sat back in his own leather one, completely ignoring the fact, that his desk was missing. "Well, Kurosaki, you were here for an interview, weren't you?"

* * *

Ichigo hadn't expected to see Renji waiting in front of the building even at half past nine in the evening and considering his state he had been there for quite some time. He huffed relieved, but furrowed his brows at the visible limp and ushered him inside his car.

"Care to tell me what happened?" Renji nodded his head to the upper floors where the facade was missing an obvious part and spotting a rather dramatic hole.

"Grimmjow happened," Ichigo hissed and buckled the seatbelt. "How did you know, I was here?"

"Matsumoto."

It seemed that the explosion of Grimmjow's terrace didn't go unnoticed by his unwanted neighbor Matsumoto. She – worried – called immediately Renji, who – in turn – rushed over to the side as fast as possible. He doubted Grimmjow would want any other police man of his department come to the scene, but it was impossible to keep that one hidden. So he ushered those guys through the pent house, finding no evidence of another device and clearing the side as no bodily harm was done to any inhabitant of the skyscraper and the damage was there, but still too small for deeper investigations. Renji promised to stay behind and wait for the owner to come back.

Grimmjow did eventually come back and was more pissed than anything. No gratitude for saving his ass and his privacy (and his hide-out more or less), but at least an address where he could pick up Ichigo who was still missing.

Ichigo nodded to the explaining.

"Why where you in there so long anyway?"

Ichigo shrugged, feeling tired and empty. "They wanted to talk." That wasn't even a lie.

"You've been there for more than twelve hours! I almost feared the worst."

"Does being threaten with a weapon count, too?"

Renji's jaw fell open. "They what! Okay, that's enough. I'll send a couple of friends over there by tomorrow. I have enough of this shit."

"Do you think I will be taken serious? They're pulling all strings and I'm..." _I'm just there._ He sighed. "They might have shot my feet, bu-"

"They WHAT!" Renji almost trashed the brakes when kicking them, stopping the car with squeaking wheels.

Groaning, Ichigo nursed his new bump. "Renji, just...just bring me to a bed and leave me there the next years..."

Renji didn't drive to Grimmjow's place but the neighboring building. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing but with the happy (and relieved) answer through the telephone terminal at the door, Matsumoto didn't seemed to mind at all.

They patched up Ichigo's foot, shoved some nutrients down his throat and squeezed him out after that. Grimmjow's appearance, his threatening, then the terribly long talk after that (it was rather an interrogation). Matsumoto, Renji and even Gin were listening closely, looking at each other troublingly.

"Don't underestimate Urahara." Gin rubbed his chin in thought. "Even if he seems harmless and easy-going; he's a genius running on the edge to madness. Believe me, some of those projects he sponsors are either born from a mind of a nutcase, or a ruthless businessman who knows what he's doing. Of course, nobody knows about those projects."

"Nobody but you."

He grinned. "I was Urahara's left hand. Until he pulled that thing with Rangiku where he didn't saw it necessary to fill me in about the details." Matsumoto rubbed his knee soothingly.

"So, it's no coincidence that suddenly so much happens around our Blue Bird."

"And Ichigo was just his luck."

"He just didn't think about Grimmjow really being..."

"An asshole?"

"A loner?"

"A lunatic?"

"An idiot?"

"...I wanted to say one of a kind, but just keep insulting him..." Ichigo sighed, shifting his leg. He could be glad that those guys just talked to him. In a very creepy way, but talking nonetheless. They explained the research they were making on Grimmjow. Who he probably was, what he could probably be, where he came from and stuff like that. After several assumptions Ichigo got the impression they had made their research in old comic books. After that they seemed to brainwash him, telling him over and over and over what a danger the Blue Bird was, that he should be kept behind secured doors, should be examined thoroughly in case more of his kind would appear. It was strange. And it made him worry.

He flat out refused though to be their agent, installing cameras in his flat or taking samples of his body like hair and...well, other things. Ichigo felt disgusted by the thought to stab him in the back so cowardly, but even more disgusted when they thought he would come to them like a puppy when they threw money at him. He would have run berserk if it wasn't for the security guards and his hurt foot.

"Stay here for the night," Matsumoto smiled encouragingly at him, patting his shoulder. He had to look tired. He was dead tired.

But..

"Thanks, but I'll just go over there." He nodded to the still lightened living room in the other building, even though the terrace doors were missing. "After the..." he cleared his throat. "I don't want anything happen to you..."

* * *

Grimmjow ate one of his midnight-meals and didn't look up by the door opening.

There was a chill in the living room that didn't come from Grimmjow's fool mood but the missing windows. The once beautiful terrace was a mess, the outer walls slightly cracked. The bomb was as controlled and calculated as one would expect from a genius. It made Ichigo shiver.

"Late, aren't you?" he said still watching the screen of the television.

A small chuckle. "Yeah," Ichigo's voice was raspy. "Beating went longer than expected."

Grimmjow heard him removing his shoes and his coat. "How went the interview?"

He heard him hesitate, a small tingle up his spine and a small gulp.

"Fine," he said, limping over the carpet and closing the door to the bathroom behind him. Not even a minute later, he came back out, looking upset.

Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow. "Have I forgotten flushing?"

For long moment Ichigo just stared at him, the corner of his eyes were itching, until he shook his head angrily. Obviously coming to his conclusion he hobbled to the couch, and waited until Grimmjow managed to give him a glance. Surprisingly, Ichigo took that as an invitation to push himself forward and straddle his lap.

The very short shocked silence followed a low growl. "You're awfully brave to get between me and my food..." he said in a dangerously low voice.

Instead of leaping from the place, Ichigo stayed stubbornly, even going as far to grab him by his hair and pull him down for a harsh kiss. It turned out he rather pulled himself down than Grimmjow up, but the kiss happened all the same.

Much to Grimmjow's enjoyment, because his mouth twitched. "Continue this and we'll go the whole way," he promised, gripping Ichigo's butt tightly.

"You could have taken me with you, you ass," Ichgio murmured against his mouth. He wanted to bite him for a better visualization of his anger but he would just hurt himself.

"And let them think you're important what you're certainly not?"

A statement like that one was to be expected, so Ichigo didn't feel as hurt as he might have before knowing Grimmjow's attitude. "At least I can be a good lay," Ichigo all but growled.

"Average one at most."

Whatever Grimmjow might have had as parents, he would have driven them nuts (or into their graves) by his constant back talk and smart answers. Ichigo's eyes glowed with renewed anger that seemed to amuse the blue-haired man more than anything.

"Where do you come from?" Ichigo asked suddenly, completely changing the topic.

Needing a second to form an answer, Grimmjow said: "From a mother's womb?"

"Can't you stop those smart ass answers?"

"When you stop asking ridiculous questions." Grimmjow snorted. He leaned back, quirking a blue eyebrow. "Do you want me to say from Mars or another galaxy?"

The redhead blushed. "... actually I wanted to ask what you did in your childhood and stuff..."

"My childhood on Mars?"

Ichigo slapped his forehead. (This man was ridiculous...)

"Can you remember your parents?"

"An ugly mermaid and a three eyed Klingon?"

"_Grimmjow._"

He sniggered. "Why so curious?"

Ichigo leaned back further, all too eager to give the bastard an earful, when his foot's injury came back full force, making him gasp in pain and loose balance.

Not surprisingly, Grimmjow did nothing to stop his fall, so he toppled right backwards and fell onto the coffee table. According to the strange feeling, he fell right into Grimmjow's midnight snack and the sauce of the pasta started seeping through the material of his pants, leaving an uncomfortable wet feeling to his butt. Grimmjow all but quirked an eye brow again. Rather expecting him to lash out for ruining his meal, Ichigo was prepared to be hit square in the face, not for the other man taking his foot and inspecting it.

"They shot you?" he asked, fingering the formerly white bandage where red started to blossom again.

"Accidently," Ichigo hissed as Grimmjow began to peel the bandage away. "Stop that!" Like with any other command as well, Grimmjow did exactly what he wasn't supposed to do and continued. "Oi, that frickin' hurts!"

Ichigo even ignored the wet sauce that now successfully was plastered to his behind; but obviously Grimmjow seem to remember that little detail and before Ichigo could comprehend what happened, his trousers were gone and the plate of squashed foot was suddenly next to instead right under him.

With his trousers, bandage and socks missing, he sat half-naked and shivering on the coffee table and saw Grimmjow inspecting the nasty looking hole that bled profusely.

"Smells strange," Grimmjow announced. "And it smells infected. Sure this was a normal bullet?"

It had left a hole like a bullet and the thing pulled out by Gin looked like a bullet. Moreover, it frickin _hurt_ like a bullet.

"You're getting a little hot for my liking." Grimmjow eyed his red face. He didn't even considered that he blushed out of embarrassment. Without further warning, Grimmjow pushed him onto the glass table.

"W-what are you doing?" Ichigo squeaked, trying to push the other away.

"Do you have to be always this complicated when I'm trying to be nice?" Grimmjow drove forward for his 'special' attack, but before he could even come close to Ichigo's face, the redhead clapped his hands in front of the other's mouth.

"Don't."

"Why the hell not?"

"It might be the reason you lost your powers."

Grimmjow halted at that. The redhead under him at least looked like he was actually contemplating that. Truth to be told, Grimmjow had similar assumptions before. One can only guess and investigate after something as shitty as that incident happens. So, assuming it was the fault of his new found ability was either stupid or the truth.

Better not push his luck.

Grimmjow eased off him and fell back into the couch. Despite that Ichigo had actually sat on his plate, Grimmjow still took it and continued eating.

Scrunching up his nose, Ichigo wobbly got off the table as well, and sat next to Grimmjow.

When Grimmjow was about to finish his meal, he felt the red head fall onto his shoulder, the slightly high temperature seeping through. Irritated Grimmjow shoved him away, knocking him into the other arm rest, and picked up the remote. That no annoying cursing or accusing followed made him frown and turn his eyes to the side. Ichigo all but lay knocked out on his side, slightly sweating, shallow breathing, his dripping foot ruining the floor. His crumbled dress shirt revealed part of his back and Grimmjow actually flinched upon seeing the first old scar peering through.

He took the shirt and lifted it far enough to study the other marks, his jaw clenching unknowingly. His foot would become his newest scar in his sheer endless collection. Still gazing at the pale freckled back, Grimmjow cursed silently, let the material go, cursed again while he hit the remote in his hand repeatedly against his forehead for his stupidity.

He was getting way too soft. Maybe not on the outside (according to the now crumbled remote), but definitely somewhere...else.

Picking the boy up as gently as he could, he laid his head onto his lap and started to flick him back together, despite all warning bells in his head to not use _that_ technique again.

By the next morning, the couch, where the boy was neatly tucked in under layers of blankets, was empty. As was the rest of the apartment.

Grimmjow wasted a second or two on frowning upon it until he just shrugged his shoulders.

One week went by without him caring much. He pulled three kids out of the remains of a building they were buried alive under. Their parents welcomed them back with tears and snot covering their faces, going even so far and _thanking_ Grimmjow.

Then he accidently caught a suicide that made him rethink his whole being and start a new life as a new person. Grimmjow snorted at that.

When he came home that evening to tell Ichigo about that he remembered one glaring detail: he was still missing.

In the middle of the second week he felt an itching. It drove him nuts and he concluded that he needed to get laid...

When he wasn't able to find a fitting person, it drove him even more nuts.

Even Matsumoto had deserted him, so there was no way to relieve his frustration with a free food orgy.

The third and fourth week flew by and he almost reached his breaking point. He concluded he should forget everything about the wimp and get on with his goddamn life like he used to.

So, one afternoon, fresh in his new old life, he got a rather strange surprise when he saw a men standing on his still messy terrace and smoking. He furrowed his brows.

Shoving the glass door aside he tapped his foot repeatedly against the tiles on the floor, glaring at the intruder. "Care to tell me, why you're here?" he said in his pissed-off voice, crossing his arms. He recognized him easily, being the partner of Mister Officer.

With the stub being thrown to the floor and put out by a hoe, the long brown mane turned towards him. "Well, good morning, Grimmjow," he said in a sleepy voice, scratching his cheek and yawning.

"How did you get here?"

"Grimmjow," he said, completely ignoring the question. "I'm here to invite you to come with me. Please, refrain from being difficult; elsewhere I have to force you."

Grimmjow almost laughed. "Are you shitting me?"

"Please don't make it complicated."

"I'm going to make _your_ life complicated," Grimmjow promised. He wasn't one to be ordered around.

With the calmness of the world, Stark put on a white glove, flexing his fingers. Grimmjow didn't saw the fist smashing into his jaw and send him flying into his wall on the other side of the living room. He was busy understanding why his whole body was screaming in pain. He picked himself up so that the broken pieces of his former wall fell from his body.

"Holy shit," he gasped out, shaking his spinning head.

"You know where you have to go to."

This time, he barely was able to see the beeping and blinking device, before its detonation crashed around his ears. He actually needed _minutes_ until he was able to shake of the spinning in his head and the ringing in his ears. Certainly that wasn't any normal bomb. He wondered how the other guy was doing considering he felt already this bad, but the terrace was deserted and his once beautiful lazy home was a pile of former walls and furniture.

He remembered what Starrk said, even though he can't spot or smell that bastard nearby.

He knew where he had to go? Oh hell, he damn sure knew...

* * *

"Oh, welcome, Mister Blue Bird!" said a sing-song voice right before Grimmjow drove his fist into that smiling face, sending the blond man into the window pane and right through it.

"Well, I am lucky that that had just been a dummy," the same sing-song voice said right behind Grimmjow so that the he whirled around and lashed his fist out.

It was stopped a mere inch before the blonde's nose by none other than Stark looking bored despite the fact that he had just stopped a punch that would have send Urahara into the seventh ring of hell.

"Please, calm down!" Urahara said soothingly, and took a step back when Grimmjow began to struggle to get his fist free again. "I'm sorry for your apartment but you seem to react to violence or provocation only."

"I'll kill you," Grimmjow hissed lowly.

"Aah, Kurosaki had said the same thing..." Urahara sounded devoted. "But it seems as if our glove was a success!"

Kicking his leg sideways, Grimmjow got Stark out of the way, launched to the still grinning Urahara with a raised fist and—

Stopped.

In midair.

"What the fuck..." Grimmjow barely could move his body. His anger grew when Urahara had the gut to walk up to him and pat his cheek.

"Don't worry," he said friendly, tugged at his arm and lead his stiff, floating body out of the door. Grimmjow just caught a glimpse of brown eyes and red hair until he was forced further into the building.

"The last time, I was a bit unprepared for your rude behavior and your short temper," Urahara kept talking pushing through endless corridors. "I was convinced that your relationship to Kurosaki would go deeper than sex, but you proved me wrong. Kurosaki was there different, acting like your cute caring boyfriend, but that's beside the point. We actually didn't need his help that much in the first place, that was, until you decided to share your power again."

Grimmjow growled at the memory four weeks ago healing the foot.

"Then he was perfect for our research. You can't imagine the progress we made. You've experienced the glove of Stark. What a great piece of work!" Urahara hummed contently. "After we found a speck of your _'Reiatsu'_ in Kurosaki's body, we were able to tell that you're just a mere human. What a disappointment, since we hoped for something...more thrilling."

"I'll give you thrilling," Grimmjow growled deeply, observing his surrounding in his peripheral view. Laboratories. He hated laboratories. The smell of all those chemicals made his head fuzzy and his bile rise. "And Stark's a mere human, too? The last time I checked he was a cop pooping into his chair."

"Stark? Of course he's human. Everybody we found until now is human even if their abilities are extraordinary. Stark is no exception."

"So he is your little agent in the police? How boring."

Urahara came to a halt in a room that could have been right out of a horrible trash movie. The technology and the peeping machines made Grimmjow rolling his eyes and huffing loudly.

"And what's keeping me up in the air?" Grimmjow asked flexing his muscles but didn't move an inch.

"I have a psychic following us. She's very capable and, beside you, our most interesting project. Very impressing, that she can handle a raw monster like you."

"Hey," Grimmjow growled almost pouting. "Don't call me that. Combined with the trash here I'll look like Frankenstein."

"Ah, yes, Frankenstein," Urahara sighed dreamingly. "You see, we have the most interesting people: one is able to talk with animals, one is able to tell when a natural catastrophe will occur, one can tell how people will die, people using telepathy, telekinesis, seeing dead people or – my favorite – killing goats by looking at them."

Grimmjow felt as if the whole thing was a big bad joke.

"But you, Grimmjow," Urahara came up to him, "You're special, unbelievable special with abilities that get us frightened."

"You want to figure me out? Cut me open? Make me your little peasant?"

Urahara didn't smile anymore. "Grimmjow," his voice was slow. "You're not stupid," he said, making Grimmjow roll his eyes, again. "But you're not a genius either." Grimmjow glared at him. "Maybe you don't know what kind of power you hold in your hands. However, others know. Kurosaki was right when he accepted your bad attitude as a kind of self preservation. You were selfish, but you weren't used by anyone."

"That should be changing?" Something clicked. "You're gonna sell me to the military after a brainwash? Or to the highest bidder?"

"No. I doubt I am able to clean your dirty mind with a simple brainwash. And we would be stupid to give such a precious thing like you away."

"I won't be too thrilled to work for an ass like you."

Urahara sighed. "I feared you would say that." With a flick of his wrist a door to the side opened and three men stepped in – one (as predicted) was Kurosaki, dangling between the other two, but wide awake and furious, obviously.

His and Grimmjow's eyes met for a short moment, until Urahara stepped between them. Grimmjow snorted. "I already told you that you could finish him off."

The blonde looked to the two guards shrugging their shoulders, then back to Grimmjow. A shot later Ichigo groaned loudly, adding profane words to vocalize his pain.

Grimmjow didn't even blink. He shrugged his shoulders as well. "And? I've done worse to him."

Urahara turned back again, looking something between surprised and nervous. Kurosaki was bowing his head, cradling his arm to his chest, blood was seeping through the cloth.

"Well, that's a shame. Sadly, I have to admit that he was the only trump I got." He scratched his head and went to one of the tables to the side. "Okay, I guess I have to finish you off then." He was rummaging through his studies, pulling out a gun.

"You're going to kill me...with a gun?" Was the guy an idiot? After he had admitted that Grimmjow was a walking miracle?

"You can't be killed by fire or cold, we wouldn't be able to make a blade that cut through your skin. Drowning or suffocating may be possible, but I fear you would be able to hold your breath longer than our psychic can hold you at bay. And starvation...well, it would need even more time. No needle would get into your skin for poisoning and your stomach even resisted a bomb. Congratulations on that one." He made a pause. "This may be a mere gun, but we developed the bullets. Some tests we did with Kurosaki had shown that your _Reiatsu_ is sensitive to several kinds of acid. Since Kurosaki had just a small amount of your _Reiatsu_, we couldn't be sure which acid was really affecting you. So we prepare several different bullets. Coming in contact with your skin in a strong bundled impact, the acid will weaken your _Reiatsu_ and the bullet gets through. Even you would stop living with a hole in a heart." Putting the first bullet into the revolving breech, Urahara clicked it shut and fired.

Grimmjow grunted when that damn thing hit his temple. "Headaches worsen my mood..." he growled out.

"Okay, we have some left..."

After five more shots, Grimmjow's patience was running thin. He had to admit that one left burning scratches on his skin, but that was that.

Urahara already started to fidget uncomfortably. Everyone knew what would happen if there was no suiting bullet for the superman since his psychic just _couldn't_ keep him up for eternity.

"Just let him go already!"

Urahara blinked stupidly at Kurosaki who came over the pain from the shot and glared at him. It was almost cute to see him fight for the Blue Bird even though that man made it very clear that he was worth nothing. Besides, as soon as his psychic would have to let him go, Blue Bird wouldn't need anyone trying to fight for him anyway (correction: everyone else would try to fight for their poor life)

"Kurosaki, I seriously think that you're in absolutely no position to make any demands." As if remembering something, Urahara snapped his fingers and rummaged through his pockets. "Good that you remind me! Before I forget..." He smiled upon finding what he was looking for: a neat silver handgun. "Better start eliminating the first evidences, won't we?"

A shot later the redhead lay motionless on the floor.

Grimmjow's jaw fell slack. His blue eyes looked incredulously to Urahara but the blonde just pocket his weapon again.

"Where were we...?" He asked as if he hadn't just killed—

Then Grimmjow snapped.

The psychic – wherever that bastard hid – couldn't even hold the man down for another second as Grimmjow release with a roar an immense wave of power. Machines and screen crushed under the force, guards and anyone else flew several meters away.

Too fast for every human eye, Grimmjow vanished, and with him the body lying in the puddle of his own blood, and a final destructive blow to the construction left the whole part of the building in ruins.

* * *

Renji was dead tired when he arrived at his small home; however, not tired enough to miss that something in the confines of his living space was amiss. He drew his weapon and crept through the dark rooms. Upon opening the guest room, his heart leaped a bit and he almost fired his weapon when the outline of this ridicule hair style made him stop.

Still with the weapon aiming at the trespasser, Renji cleared his throat. "Grimmjow?" An answer never came, but his eyes slowly got used to the darkness and he was able to make out the blank face of the other man sitting on the bed.

Huffing a sigh, Renji pocketed his gun and crossed his arms. "A little warning would have been fine, you know?" Even though Renji had absolutely no idea, what the other wanted in his of all apartments. "I doubt you came for a little chit-chat." Considering he didn't say anything at all, that answer would be no. "Hey, why so docile? I would have expected you to spit fire and smoke, given the condition of your home." If 'condition' even covered it. The once so proud home was heap of rubble. Due to the extension of the damage it was a miracle that no one got hurt. He just came from that crime scene, even though his team was still digging through the mess.

"Grimmjow?"

Furrowing his brows, Renji flicked finally the light on, gasping as soon as the brightness filtered through the room.

The bundle that was pressed to Grimmjow's chest turned out to be very human. And with a rising feeling of dread, he recognized the color of that hair. His eyes wandered lower, finding the shirt completely clad in one big red stain. He became sick.

"What _the fuck happened?_"

He jumped up to the other, fisting his clothes and shaking him as hard as he could. Even in Grimmjow's lethargic state, it barely had an impact but that the bright red head that was formerly tucked under Grimmjow's chin, fell back, revealing dull brown eyes. Open.

The shock made Renji stumbled back into the opposite wall. He felt seriously sick. He had seen dead bodies, but none he was emotionally attached to. "You're supposed to fucking watch out for him, you bastard!" he croaked hoarsely, burrowing his face in his hand. "Oh fucking shit..!"

In Grimmjow's defense, he _had_ tried to make it right, had tried to heal him. But his efforts were in vain. He could only try so much. After all, he was just human, wasn't he?

Gently tucking the motionless redhead back into the crook of his neck, he kept staring ahead. He just came here because this was the only place he knew besides his own home, and that was no more.

When Renji lowered his hand and managed to look up to the pair on the bed again, his breath hitched when suddenly a woman stood there, her posture timid and her smile sad. She lifted her hand and stroked softly over the blue-haired man's cheek, making him come out of his trance.

At first, Renji thought he would lash out and kill her in the process, but the murderous glare swiftly fell. Before he could recognize the new raw emotion flickering through those blue eyes, Grimmjow hid his face in Ichigo's shoulder.

"Leave."

Her smile turned even sadder as she crouched in front of him and rubbed his knee in a soothing manner.

"Kurosaki told me about you," she began, ignoring the twitch in Grimmjow's shoulders. "In fact, he didn't talk about anything but you. And considering we met four weeks ago, that was a lot of talking. He..." she hesitated. "...he adored you. You meant so much to him." Her voice wavered a little bit. "You were always so angry at the world, so he wanted you to find balance, freedom...happine—"

"Shut up!" Grimmjow snapped his head up, glaring at her. "Shut the fuck up." He didn't sound as angry as usual.

"He loved you."

Grimmjow screwed his lids together, clenched his jaw. His hand went up to his eyes, covering them. "Just...just...fuck..."

Renji had never seen him like this. So..._human_.

"I have a proposal for you." She lifted her hand and hold up one finger. "You grant him his request. I know he already asked you twice and you refused. But now since he's..." She let it linger in the air until she lifted her second finger. "Or you'd be selfish. You had heard that I'm...one of his favorite projects and...I'm able to..." She guided Grimmjow's hand to the unmoving chest, placing it upon the wet cloth.

Grimmjow stared at her, his mouth ajar, disbelievingly.

"Will you be selfish?"

Renji blinked at them both.

"I.." Grimmjow said, looking to Renji, to the girl, then to Ichigo, tracing with his thumb his cold lips. "I'm..."

Renji saw a movement in the corner of his eyes. When he looked through the door to his dark living room, he swore he saw Starrk pointing a gun at them until he pocketed it calmly, disappearing into the shadows of his apartment without any evidence that he had been there.

* * *

They made Grimmjow eat his own words thoroughly. Only after he agreed to almost everything that Urahara-bastard was proposing, they took Ichigo from his arms and placed him in their own medical ward. He was allowed to watch the girl – the psychic – work on him, saw how the bullet came out without any hand touching his chest. A soft glow surrounded the redhead and Grimmjow watched for hours to pass.

He gave himself up to save the boy. That goddamn boy, the biggest wimp of them all. The one they could kill without him caring much. And now, look at him. Blackmailed to be their fucking guinea pig or Ichigo's treatment would be stopped.

It tore at him, in more ways than one.

Grimmjow went through dozens of experiments, nothing really hurt, considering Urahara's assumption was true and they had to fail several times until they even got the equipment ready for a body like Grimmjow's. Most times, his temper got the better of him, leaving havoc wherever he was.

But every time that happened, Urahara was there, fanning himself with that wide mysterious smile on his lips and the silent promise to let his boy die all over again.

Frankly, Grimmjow would have been over the hills and far away if he hadn't witnessed Ichigo breathing again, still unconscious, but with a real steady heartbeat, his body warm instead of dead cold. A miracle, but that was Ichigo anyway. He survived so much so far; he would pull through this shit, too. Grimmjow knew. And he hoped.

It seemed as if weeks passed without end. With every passing day, the wide mad smile of the blonde businessman/scientist became wider and wider. Every result of one experiment or another made him explode in an almost orgasmic bliss that it disgusted him without end.

In the evening and during the night, Grimmjow usually sat next to the clean bed in one of the many underground levels, silently observing the steady fall and rise of Ichigo's chest. He relished during that time the faint smell of the redhead that got fainter during the weeks and was replaced by the sterile room and the medical equipment.

How long did he have to wait?

It was one of those evenings of waiting that found Grimmjow sitting next to the boy as the psychic – Orihime he had learn one day – came walking through the door. Grimmjow didn't need to turn around to get her smell right.

"Leave," he all but grumbled, annoyed that they even disrespect his quiet evening.

She was sometimes as stubborn as he was, so instead of going straight back, she paused next to the bed. He ignored her, trying to focus on the redhead and his freckles.

Minutes went by before he heard her whispering.

"Look at him."

Grimmjow furrowed his brows. What the hell was he doing all the time? He wanted to give her a piece of his mind when he noticed her rigid posture. "I mean, look at him." She barely moved her lips and if it wasn't for his good hearing he wouldn't have understood her. She bowed he head so that her chin rested on her chest, giving her a posture of regret and pity. "Please," she whispered so lowly. "Don't believe everything they serve up."

With that she was gone.

Careful to keep his blank face on, Grimmjow mulled over that. Longer than he was comfortable with.

By the next experiment he bothered to actually look at his surroundings. Whereas he always showed disinterest and irritation he noticed the slight difference. This laboratory didn't look as if it came out of the movie. It looked quite real for a change and the machines were more authentic than before. Urahara was part of the team working on him, but his posture, his presence was completely different. He actually felt it, something, making his hackles rise.

At night, he sat again in front of Ichigo's bed, but his frown was deep and his shoulders hunched up. It didn't make sense. Or better: everything started to make sense. Everything but one glaring detail.

He suddenly stood and crossed the remaining space to the bed. He bend over the unmoving body, listening, smelling, watching. Something was off. His natural smell had almost completely vanished, his skin looked pale due to the lack of sun. Grimmjow bend more over the bed to get a better look on the face. He got a strange feeling. As if you're looking at your own things but you clearly noticed that someone had went through them and tried to make them look as before.

It clicked.

Hastily he ripped the sheets off, his blue eyes dancing over the pale visible skin. With renewed fury he gripped the limp arm and threw the boy across the room. He suppressed the sick feeling in seeing the redhead so lifeless and stomped over to him, ripping the shirt up and inspecting the back.

Everything was wrong.

"_You shouldn't come to hasty conclusions,_" Urahara voice sounded through a speaker from a far wall.

"Where is he?" Grimmjow stood and looked into the camera he knew was there. "Where the fucking hell is he!"

"_Kurosaki? Right in front of you?_"

"Cut this bullshit, you stupid prick! You had long enough your fun in making a fool out of me!"

"_Seriously, Grimmjow, I have no idea what you're talking about._"

But Grimmjow had. Whoever lay there on the floor next to him, he was anybody but Ichigo. And he was more than sure.

Without any second thought, he skipped to the area where the camera should be and blew a hole through the wall. His raging anger topped everything he felt before. It took seconds for him to demolish the whole floor, less than a minute to crash through the two floors above him and leave destruction that had no equal. Oh, even through these massive walls he felt this one faltering heartbeat, this specific one frightened man who got everything going to get out of his way. Like a rocket he crushed through every level; a maddening, pain promising smirk graced his features. No psychic would stop his desire of revenge and destruction.

Urahara was surprisingly calm on the surface, once Grimmjow found him barricaded in his office. The dozens of guards were nothing but insects under his brutal strength, with or without their fancy gloves. Grimmjow saw right through the blonde, could practically feel the fluttering heartbeat of terror despite this carefree smile.

"You wanted to talk to me?" he asked, still smiling.

Oh, Grimmjow would do anything but talking. He managed three leisurely steps closer to the blonde, when another figure appeared from the shadows. He recognized her easily, with her dark skin, her voluptuous figure, the dark hair and her golden eyes. She wore more clothes than the time Grimmjow had picked her up for the one-time-romp, but she was definitely that woman.

He quirked an eyebrow, annoyed and amused. She wore no obvious scientific equipment like Starrk had; so either she had a death wish or something up her sleeve.

"Move, woman."

She grinned.

He didn't make differences between male and female, so when he lashed out to knock her out of the window, he was quite shocked to notice that her hand blocked his hit almost effortlessly. His second fist snapped forward but was gripped by her other hand. He kicked his legs out, ripped his hands free and drove forward to get that woman moving. But punch after punch after kick, the more he tried to hit her – successful or not – the more he noticed his actual struggle to fight her, his own limbs getting sore and bruises forming on her body.

They parted, him panting in exhaustion and awe. Shit, obviously this blonde freak had managed to get his experiments too far. Glaring at the man – who surprisingly pressed himself in a far corner of the room – Grimmjow sneered.

"Aren't you lucky to create a frickin' mutant like that?" he spat.

Instead of the blonde answering, the woman sneered. "I'm not one of his experiments." She flicked her hair and smiled mysteriously. "Or don't you wonder why I survived your brutal copulation so easily?"

Grimmjow's jaw fell slack again.

To emphasis her statement, she became airborne, flying leisurely and stepping down again.

Out from his corner, Urahara approached the pair slowly, looking as if he would bolt any given moment. When she was standing on the floor again, the blonde crept next to her, smiling nervously.

"You see, Mr. Grimmjow, my assumptions and interest didn't come out of nowhere." Before he could talk more, the woman grabbed his neck and pressed his face into the side of her breasts, silencing him.

"Stop talking, boy; I want to have a word with my blue friend." She ignored his loud splutter and concentrated on her opponent again. "Obviously, as you noticed, you're not the only one. Just the only one who made a jerk out of himself and became an official asshole."

Grimmjow didn't even feel offended.

"I suggest you leave this little boy here with me. You marked your territory, I marked mine." Her golden eyes glittered in the light. "I would be not very pleased if you try anything more with him." She stroked the blonde's neck, where she still kept a firm grip.

"Yo-yoruichi—" Urahara choked, trying in vain to get her lessen the grip.

"Sorry," she said as she noticed her mistake. "Possessive nature, you know?" she smirked, then turned back to Grimmjow. "Now go."

His hackles rose with that command, his anger still very present. His fist lashed out again with a loud growl, and landed into her steady palm with nothing but a short buckle of her shoulder. Urahara started sweating like a pig and he smelled it.

"You had enough fun here," she said, motioning to the building that lay half in ruins. Grimmjow ripped his hand away, clenching his jaw in anger.

"If you ask nicely, I might even consider a real match. I promise." His reaction was still subtle, but the woman added: "Now look for your boy."

This time, Grimmjow got knocked out of his immense fury and his aim came back in focus. He spit once to the ground, kicked the sturdy table out of the window and made his way after it.

* * *

The frustrated crumble of the newspaper followed the thud of it landing in the bin. Renji groaned out loud. His job had become boring as hell, even the newspaper wasn't what it used to be. He hadn't heard anything from the blue devil within the last _months_, not personally nor in any news in the television, radio or in paper size. Since Starrk had quit suddenly and without explanation, he was ripped from the only constant and motivation his job had to offer. Now his office looked just so boring.

He nipped sullenly on a coffee, brooding.

The sudden noise from the window opening was his only warning, when Renji was ripped out of his musing, spun around and faced with the very person, he had just cussed out.

"Where is he?" Without waiting for an answer Grimmjow shook him vehemently, his blue eyes blazing. "Tell me, now!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" The coffee had ruined his white shirt and Grimmjow was ripping it apart by now, not to mention he had no idea what the blue bastard was shouting about. "Get a grip, will ya!"

"Ichigo!" Grimmjow growled, noticing the confused expression, but didn't recognize it to be for his use of name.

"You tell me you didn't know? He's back at his family!" Renji stumbled back into his desk, trying to rescue his shirt as best as he could.

Grimmjow's face fell. "What? When?"

"For quite some time. I thought you knew and went with him?" Considering that face, Renji guessed he didn't know anything. Then where had he been all the time? He tried to ask but was interrupted.

"Where? Where is it?"

Scratching the back of his head, Renji went to a shelf nearby and started rummaging through the old files. "Oh boy, I have to look up his address..."

"A name. Just give me the fucking name of the city!"

Blinking, Renji cocked a brow. "That would be Karakura, but—"

Grimmjow was gone long before Renji could utter another word.

* * *

It was the longest fly he had ever managed. His speed was neck-breaking and he felt for the first time the icy wind against his skull. The mountains flew by, then the ocean came and when land was visible again, he felt he was close. There was no world map in his head, but he had spent a good amount of time traveling aimless through the world, visiting places but feeling wherever he went unsatisfied.

It took him actually hours to get to the average city of Karakura. Enclosed by the mountains and the sea it lay peacefully in front of him.

He concentrated on his nose, trying to figure out and divert the millions of different smells, until his eyes snapped open again, rushing along the track he found.

* * *

Equipped with a small bouquet of white lilies, Ichigo trailed after his small family, a faint, comfortable smile on his face. His gaze swept aimlessly through the rows of graves, a peaceful silence surrounding them. He looked in front of him again and saw his father standing and waiting for him, the relieved smile never left his slightly wrinkled face since three months.

"Come, my boy," he grinned, slinging his broad arm around his shoulders and ushering him after his sisters.

Despite being with his family for such a long time again, he hadn't found the nerve to actually visit his mother's grave. Quite a shame, but nobody of his family had forced him. They seemed to be glad he was back at all.

Feeling an embarrassing blush crawling up his neck, Ichigo shoved his father gently away. "Dad, I'm not a kid anymore."

"You'll always be my kid," his father smiled instead, tousling his hair with a short laugh. "Now, be a good boy and greet your mother."

"I'm not a dog either," he grumbled out, rearranging the flowers in his hand.

Then he felt a tingle up his spine.

His eyes widened and when he whirled around, he saw him again.

The flowers fell to the floor.

"Grimmjow?" Questions of what the hell the bastard was doing here couldn't even leave his lips as he was suddenly squeezed to death by two corded arms and a body made of stone or steel.

"G-grimm—!" he choked out, feeling a nose bury in his neck and inhaling deeply. He would have felt overwhelmed by this show of affection, but the man was rather killing him than being 'gentle'. "You're crushing me!"

Instantly, he was freed by those arms, but not for long, as a pair of hands grabbed his face and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Grimmjow was too eager and wild, so it didn't take long for Ichigo's lip to bleed from the harsh treatment. Obviously sensing his second mistake, Grimmjow pulled away, winced at the sight and tried again, this time as breathtaking and gentle as he was able to. Ichigo righteous _melted_.

They parted instantly when they felt their audience shifted uncomfortably.

Ichigo cursed loudly and hid his red face behind his hand, trying to rub the blood on his lips away. He took one staggering step back, wincing as his feet crushed the poor lilies still lying on the floor.

He hastily swept them up again, looking apologetically to his family and shied his eyes away from Grimmjow. With a deep breath, he went up to the single grave of his late mother, putting the flowers down with as much dignity as he could muster. He gently stroked the stony surface of the grave, sent some silent prayers and apologies to his parent and stood, smiling at the rest of the family.

His father squeezed his shoulder encouragingly and in approval, but almost immediately, another similar large hand fell onto his other shoulder.

"I'm just burrowing this one for a while," Grimmjow said, gripped Ichigo and threw him over his shoulders.

The protest lay on his father's lips, but Grimmjow shot into the air and had already vanished.

* * *

"That's called kidnapping!" Ichigo screeched when they finally landed a few miles away on the roof top of one of the few high rise buildings in Karakura.

"Burrowing, I'll give you back!"

Ichigo grumbled at being treated like a thing, crossing his arms and trying to get the shiver out of his limbs. He had experienced flying with Grimmjow; that didn't make it less overwhelming.

Grimmjow pulled his jacket off, draping it over the redhead's shoulder and pulling him close again.

"What went into you?" Ichigo asked with wonder in his voice, peeking up from under Grimmjow's chin. On the cemetery he had looked like he run mile – or like any normal human would look when running a mile: Flushed face, sweating and slightly out of breathe.

"Isn't it a little dangerous to be around your family, with your kind of luck?"

Gazing into the distant, Ichigo shrugged his shoulders. "It just...stopped." He cleared his throat. "I can't explain it." He rubbed his fingers over his chest, shuddering at the memory.

Grimmjow pulled him an arm's length away, studying him thoroughly. His hands went to the buttons of his button-down and started opening them.

"Okay, that's getting a little too far! _Grimmjow!_" the redhead shouted when the other failed to hear him. Again.

Halfway done, Grimmjow pushed the material away, revealing a white fresh scar over his left pectoral. He stopped, staring at it. "They really shot you," he breathed out and traced the scar.

Ichigo shifted uncomfortably. "You were right the first time. That weren't normal bullets." He scratched the white and pink mark. "This one...how can I say it? In a state of apparent death?" He gazed over Karakura. "They pulled it out, gave me medication and within three, four days I was as good as new."

Three to four..._days_? He was staring at a double for _months_ and didn't notice? He gritted his teeth, feeling a deep mortification coming up. His attachment and grief was so big that he did not see the wood for the trees. It was humiliating.

Grimmjow stepped several feet back, eyeing the boy from a distance. This fragile, all too easily breakable boy. His still bloody lip, the scars, those big brown eyes. For a guy like him to want to be together with someone like Grimmjow, it was just suicidal.

"You still wanna die?"

Ichigo smiled at him, closing the buttons of his shirt again. "I think dying once is enough for my young life, isn't it?" he grinned patting the spot of his newest scar. "And thanks," he chuckled at Grimmjow's confused expression. "For not letting me die."

A door to the staircase opened that very moment. A security guard eyed them warily. "Hey, here's no entry! Staff only!"

Both men didn't really notice the guard. Blue eyes still stared disbelievingly at the redhead. "Orihime told me. With your selfless behavior of saving me you were really a fine specimen of a true hero. My lousy thanks can't even cover that."

Instead of a proud arrogant smirk, Grimmjow looked as if he got hit in the guts and actually _felt_ it.

The guard, now with a light-calibred gun pointing at them, furrowed his brows at the strange exchange. "Boys, if you just—"

Grimmjow took a step back. The whole realization of what he had done came crashing down on him. He had done something good with a good intention. As simple and petty as it sounded, it scared him shitless.

"Grimmjow?"

_No_, he chanted in his mind. Ichigo came towards him, and he suddenly felt drained from all witty comebacks and superhuman powers he possessed. This small pathetic boy had him, the super-anti-hero, twisted around his little finger without the boy or himself realizing it. Now Grimmjow knew. And he would do everything to escape those innocent clutches.

"Grimm—" Before Ichigo had the chance to take another step or finish the name, Grimmjow bolted. Despite the loud shriek of the guard Grimmjow all but dashed over the edge of the roof.

Leaning over the railing, the guard wouldn't be able to find the bluehaired man on the pavement or the streets. He cursed loudly and jumped back to the open door of the staircase, completely ignoring the dumbstruck Ichigo. "My coworkers won't believe this!"

And Ichigo didn't believe it either, despite being an eyewitness in the front row.

Grimmjow _run_.

From _Ichigo_.

The irony was lost to him.

He rubbed over the spot of his last near death experience, and smiled even though feeling a sting without recognizing it for what it was.

"A real True Hero; running from his Lois Lane" Ichigo snorted to himself and shook his head. Or was he Grimmjow's Kryptonite? A fleeting image of Grimmjow's expression on the cemetery crossed his mind, and with a small smile, he turned to follow the vanished guard down the staircase; his shoulders still covered with Grimmjow's jacket.

* * *

End.

* * *

Finally.

Keeps reminding me why I started avoiding multi-chapter-stories. It's really easier getting everything out at once.

Anyway: Thanks for your patience and reading! I was really surprised to get still feedback and reactions from you even though I kept you waiting for so long. Actually I had the story finished while updating the first chapter, but got dissatisfied with the later ones and had rewritten the last chapter for a year. Obviously, I got a little busy. Sorry, but my Bachelor degree and the preparations for my internship were more important to me...

And shoot me for the ending, please. The former one was even worse, but it didn't feel right to get them together for real. At least, nobody died. ;) Urahara is still the better villain; he's just so predictably unpredictable. And you can't really hate him.

Feel free to rip me apart (for story, ending, spelling, grammar etc)

Thanks so much for reading anyway!

See you with my next monster! +insert evil-mad-scientist laugh+


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